I see you. Smiling, while swallowing your tears, but the joy isn’t from you tasting the salt.
You tell yourself you’re okay and then sit some more hours to get your butt hurt some more after hours of you doing nothing, scrolling up and down your screen, looking for anything pleasurable to the eye – sneakers, screen shots from cartoons, movies (along with captions or subtitles connected to them), model photos (both men and women), liking and saving them to be used as wallpapers and also hoarded for gallery’s sake.
But you express dissatisfaction, through sighs let out, face palming during varying intervals within the day.
You want to go out but you ask why and then stay indoors.
You think you’re not doing well with living and even though you are seeing on timelines opportunities for work, the motivation to make a pick is absent so you envision a bit and then are let down.
Letting go you say, but here you are, seated and asking what you are worried about because there are unresolved matters you have with other parties.
And there’s nothing you see yourself doing about it.
It’s not pain and it is. It’s light yet heavy. It’s not gotten to you but you feel hit.
Fam! You. Are. Depressed.
And I’m deeply pressed that there’s little I can do, because I am too.
For us.
.nine,
06/05/2020.
Oratorical! 