until the days
with tear drops
and a heart
a million pieces
on the floor
it can be
I still “hate” you.
Am I worthy? Do I even deserve to be happy? Why would they care? Why would I even matter to anyone. I am nothing.
Depression, it constantly tests our self-worth, the value we place on ourselves over others, or the lack of it to be more precise. It can feel like a dark lonely path at times, where no matter where we look, there are only dark shadows that fill us with fear of the outside world, that only we can see.. It’s almost impossible to explain, even to those feeling it… I’ve tried all that positive thinking, the “fooling oneself into happiness” I’ve even tried convincing myself I’m better off being a loner.. But, I feel lost, alone… I feel incomplete.
It’s what I deserve
As the darkness consumes me
As I scream for a rescue that will never come
But it’s my fault, I brought myself here
And this is my eternal punishment
But I brought it all upon myself
And I have no one to blame but me
It hurts so much, the painful truth
But I deserve this, the darkness is my home
There is no way out
The king of a lonely world where I can’t be touched
Because everything I touch turns to ruin
It’s poisoned by the darkness I hold
So I can’t be loved
Although I want to be
This curse I live with will never go away
And I wish I could touch the sun
Feel its warmth
But I never will
I’m sorry for what I have become
But I never wanted this to happen
It’s too late for me, the darkness is here forever
And so is the pain that comes along with it
But I’m used to it now, because it’s what I deserve
As I silently mourn the death of the light inside
The darkness has consumed me
The darkness has consumed me.
-2014 Darryl Mouzone
I need to get away from social media for a while. I need to clear my head of the past and present for just a little while. Maybe somethings should be left where they were found, maybe not. I need to breathe that fresh air into my lungs again and clear my mind of all thoughts and find myself.
|You have deactivated your Facebook account. You can reactivate your account at any time by logging into Facebook using your old login email and password. You will be able to use the site like you used to.|
It’s probably seen as risky business blogging your life away while trying to manage depression, anxiety and what not.. and it is. I know I’ve shown a lot of emotion on this blog, some not so nice. I’ve lost and gained friends, I’ve even connected with people experiencing similar situations or who are offering advice. So to me, it all even’s itself out in that respect.
It takes a lot of pushing for me to fire up, but I know once I do I often let all pistons fire at once and sometimes regret things I’ve said. This part of blogging I don’t like, because it’s all too easy to just let your anger fly and hit enter and before you even realise what you’ve done, it’s splashed over several social media sites, thousands of subscribers and then more. I really have to keep that part of me in line, or better still, keep away from the people who bring that side of me out in the open. I really am a nice guy. 😀
Am I emotionally unstable? fuck yeah, but I’ve never hidden that fact to anyone, sometimes it’s even not by choice. I’m learning to accept who I am more everyday, I don’t always like it, but I’m beginning to understand people more and more.
I still believe I’m broken/lost, I just feel I’m wandering around in a fucked up world of hate, corruption and disregard to human life. This is not where I belong.
Anyway, that’s enough rambling for today.
When I look into your eyes
I will melt
And I will smile
And if my heart has not fainted
It will beat
And you will see
What it looks like to be in love with you
You will see stars in my eyes
Hear excitement in my voice
Passion in my breath
Feel the goosebumps on my flesh
Hear the music of blood rushing through my veins
The movement of my lips
Saying your name
And you will know
How it feels
To be in the arms
Who loves you more
Than any person has ever been loved
I ventured out this weekend for the first time in many years (5? 6??) and met up with an old friend from my younger days. We talked for hours on end and I felt that relaxed that I had forgotten all about my teeth and the now “slight lisp”.. My speech was improving by the minute.
I’m so happy to have met up with someone I knew would still take me at face value as they always had. I can’t thank you enough for helping me over step this hurdle just by being there. I look forward to many more to come.
I Am Free To Be Me!
and I’m quite awesome..
To top off a great weekend, I had my Daughter, Bianca randomly call around this afternoon and kicked back with me for a few hours. We just kicked back on my bed chatting and listening to music. I felt a real connection with her today, it was great!.. Yes, she is whacked like me.. lol.
Life’s sure on the turn around, thinking less of the recent stress, learning to ignore the tantrums and demands of knowing what I’m doing. I think I’m becoming a better person for it. I believe we have a lesson with each life experience. I know mine was to believe that I can be loved for who I am. Because, if I don’t think I’m worthy of love, there’s no way I will believe that someone else can generally give me theirs. I had basically been taught how I acted in passed relationships. Delusional… But, it’s all so easy to let ones mind…… wander into the abyss..
Till next time..
It Still Beats,
As I Pick It Off The Floor.
The Broken Piece,
What Is No More.
A Gentle Warmth
Begins Filling My Soul,
As I place It Back In
To Its Fragile Hold.
It Still Beats,
And Lets Out A Mighty Roar,
I Am Free,
I Am Me
And We Shall Love Life, Even More.
All our lives, we’ve been told to “be organized.” Organization has always been pegged as a direct key to success.
Whether at home, school or in your bunk at camp, organization is something that has been instilled in everyone pretty much from birth. On the other hand, being messy has been equally condemned and made to be a quick path to failure. And, honestly, no rebuttal could say otherwise.
I mean, what good can come from being disorganized, right? Perhaps more than you might think. More recent studies, conducted by the University of Minnesota last year, provide us with a new side of the debate. The pro-messy one.
There has always been this sort of “urban legend” that has floated around modern society deeming people with messy desks as having a high affinity for creative reasoning.
Frankly, I initially thought that people with “messy desks” had to be creative, out of necessity, to survive outside the boundaries of organization.
Last week’s take home test, still undone, in one corner. A page from last month’s Playboy ripped out and crumpled next to the bottle of cocoa butter in the other. Empty Arizona cans distributed across the surface, like a battlefield.
Your desk is a mess. Then again, it’s your mess, and thus, it feels very in-control. When you habitually fail to put things in their designated place, you’re bound to get creative figuring out ways to make everything, I don’t know, fit. And fit comfortably.
While it might look completely random to strangers, a lot of times, a person’s mess is very methodical – with respect to himself.
Psychological scientist Kathleen Vohs, from the University of Minnesota, who set out to debunk this urban legend, didn’t confine her study to solely the desk. No, Vohs, clearly a creative mind, chose to think outside the desk. She just sounds messy. The creative kind of messy.
Using a paradigm consisting of one messy room and one tidy room, and a series of trials, Vohs concluded that messy rooms provoke more creative thinking – and provided scientific evidence!
The next question is, what exactly constitutes “creative thinking,” and how will your pig sty of a room help?
Creative thinking, in its purest form, is thinking outside the lines of “conventional” reasoning. When considering this, it should be no huge shock that messy rooms containing possessions misplaced from their “conventional” locations would promote creativity.
I suppose if you prefer to “lay,” and I use that term very loosely, your clean clothes on the floor of your bedroom, when the empty dresser is only a few feet away – you’re certainly thinking outside the lines of conventional reasoning. And that same concept could be applied to more abstract conception.
Consider this from Albert Einstein, “If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, then what are we to think of an empty desk?”
Obviously, Einstein’s desk looked like a spiteful ex-girlfriend had a mission to destroy his work space, and executed it rather successfully. Yet, there’s no denying Einstein’s creativity.
Einstein wasn’t alone. Mark Twain, too, had a cluttered desk. Perhaps even more cluttered than that of Albert Einstein. Mark Twain was one of the most imaginative minds of his generation.
If the likes of Einstein and Mark Twain don’t catch the attention of Generation-Y, I give you Steve Jobs. No wonder he invented iBooks, it’s clear he had trouble maintaining his real life ones. His desk, and office alike, were fucking disasters. I suppose this just added to his brilliance.
So what does this mean to you? Trash your desks, trash your rooms and hope for a touch of genius? Not exactly. The relationship between messiness and creativity is by no means causal. Being messy won’t find you waking up one morning more creative.
The two are, however, correlated. If you are “messy by nature,” perhaps finding a healthy medium between your usual mess and that urgency to clean, is optimal. By curbing your sloppy desk, room or tendencies, – keep in mind – you might also be curbing your overall creative tendencies.
Ultimately, the only way for you gauge the effectiveness of your mess-induced creativity is to go out and experiment for yourself. So, go ahead, make it rain with all your important files and paperwork, toss your clean clothes across the room, have a blast. See what you come up with, after.
PSA: If you have a roommate, tell him not to send me any hate mail if your dorm room turns into a zoo while you experiment with this. I am not liable for any of the future messes my readers may create.
Story by DAN SCOTTI