Borrowed Sorrow

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  Growing up, I spent most of my time alone. I spent it reading, playing pretend, writing short stories, dancing, and exploring. Of course, I had a crew: a bunch of busybody teenagers exploring the infinite possibilities of our hometown. When puberty hit, I fell in love with the idea of falling in love, but not the actual relationship part. I mostly read about romance in teen magazines and already felt exhausted by the obligations society threw at girls. Back in my day, being sad was a trend. I was there when the first emo punk bands debuted on MTV. I was there when Avril swapped her skateboard for a tutu. But personally, I was happy. So, I borrowed sorrow from pop culture instead. I picked up my brother’s beat-up guitar and learned to play the most heart-numbing songs. I was an emo girl. The quiet kind you could only discover by reading my notes or scrolling through my playlist. I am a middle-aged woman now. What was once a borrowed sorrow has become the story of my life. Those c...
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Normal's might be boring but it's safe.

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It's so hard sometimes.
I don't even know if this is me or bipolar.
I don't have any encourage words anymore.
I want this to be ended.
To be normal.
Whatever its meaning.

It sad to sleep all day.
Unable to get up and do stuff.
It's tiring to up all night.
Getting along with stranger.
Flirting and seducing.
I wanna be normal.
To live some bored mediocre life.

Or at least.
I wanna have a one.
To share this awful nightmare.
But.
I'm afraid he might run down the hill.
I wanna be normal.
To feel content with all I have.

This emotion rage.
I couldn't help it anymore.
I need help.

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