The brooding force of undesired sadness looms over many, unseen and sadly unkept. Left in disarray by most, every day it claims the innocence of beating hearts. A frankly hideous mirage that covers most afflicted stops pursuit of true meaning and redemption. People fail to realize others suffering because it isn’t always apparent, the lack of interest and belief goes unnoticed and the supposed caregivers are left thinking that they have been relieved. This unshakeable sadness and dread that comes along with it all mutilates and destroys ones spirit and truly very few are ever given meaningful help or love to concede.
For doing the obvious isn’t what helps most of the time, what turns the tides are the small, frequent gestures of thoughtful love. The grand actions mean jack shit if the person suffering doesn’t believe you care. If they are comfortable with it sit with them for as long as you can, you don’t even need to talk just sit and let them know you are there. Make it obvious as to what they mean to you and how you are there for them Without that mindful support I do have trouble imagining that I would have made much if any progress.
On the topic people always seem to misunderstand the idea of being “suicidal”. It is viewed as a passing effect of distress, which(in my abrasive experiences) is far from true. It isn’t simply just the act of wanting to end your life, it doesn’t just come and go for an idea of that stature is far from a medial affair… It is something that bears weight and erodes reasonable thought with brutal aspirations. It dances around normality disguising itself as a crude inefficient fool, but it really truly is more. It is a solidified part of anyone afflicted and it performs as any other part would. It fades and flaunts what it is, only supporting the suicidal depression that has been obscured.
More directly I want to reference the fact that it is always with one, the so called suicidal grey area. It may never present as a desire to end ones own life, it can simply be a desire to lack existence. To do away with the monotony of life and avoid the useless precision of animation. The dissidence of it all is stunning, for truly the idea that one must end reality for lack of authentication is… surprisingly quite settling as it proves individuality and conscious anonymity. I do still believe that it is cause for flawed perception but forming intent based on these existential crises is enlightening. I am who I am, partially because of these desires that I live with every day of my life, my views are rooted in ideas that were formed because of my emotional religion. Below is another piece of prose I attempted;
Stranded by the force of writ, before creation of credit it was subdued as if violent precedence had been set. Yet none wrought upon justice till fret be created by the herd. Made up of frustrated and petty hounds they sought only blood and brooding pain. For only necessary petty beings were left unharmed and in grand position.
Cosmic ideas were birthed from the spit of redemption, forced out by howling spirit. Wrought upon them they endured the shrill shrieks of a creators wrath that the many fell for and few withheld. Those left be driven for necessity and deluded pride. Little by little its rage dwindled but doom was near and forth nonetheless. Before pride conceived the dire events of prelude occurred and once forth is how it proceeded;
It stood before the whimsical, tall machines and her dwindled memory, faded into loose desires of hope. Too be it was not and the doubt of herself was ended in a hideous eruption of anger and fear alike. Silenced for all concurrent and all ahead he made reception to death and allowed the embrace of his owned subtle silence.
My point though is that this is not just an idea for action, it is much more than that. It is a realization of passive and futile actions towards a bitter end, that many pursue illusions of hope and meaning but end up with little. I admit I am a pessimist but those broken and beaten turn my admiration into fear and to longing for something of meaning. Trouble is for that to be attracted one must present luster and grandeur which is found few and far between in the presence of oneself.
I often feel that the pain felt is not worth existence and that what I truthfully need is a permanent rest, but I am able to escape and each and every day I wake up thinking of what could be, what I can create, and how I can help people in need. It gives me small amounts of hope and fuels persistent hope.
In the end I have found that the spacious continuity of ones life is far more toted than the amplification of unrest. The fountains of knowledge I contain are cracked deserts compared to the information I have yet to grasp… and isn’t that enough to seed ambition? I think it is, at least for the time being and I believe that I can continue my right. Once again if you need to talk I am around,