7 Jun

So I thought I’d never write another post on this blog again. Turns out, there’s a writer within me after all. I’ve been looking for another outlet to spill these thoughts swirling in my head. I kept trying to convince myself that it was unnecessary. However, I realized that writing sometimes isn’t for the benefit of an audience, but for the writer himself. I’m posting because of me.

I need to write something.

These last few weeks have been the worst weeks of my entire life. Even having survived a near fatal accident a few years ago, broken bones don’t hurt as much as the brokeness of the heart.


It went from exhiliration to sorrow. Shocking, how so much joy can disappear so quickly. How that,  whatever sadness there may be, it just gets swallowed up by greater and deeper sadness.


That word is funny to me. It seems juvenile, like when you’re sad when you didn’t get to play the game you wanted. But truthfully, “sad” is a word to silence all words. You can throw around any terminology you want i.e. depressed, unhappy – none of those words carry the same coldness, the darkness, the loneliness of the word “sad”.

The world seems cold and lonely to me. It feels colourless. I feel like whatever motivation or direction I had in my life, it’s all been taken away from me. Desire, gone. I have never felt this magnitude of sadness in my life. I have never wept as I wept.


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