Intellectually Depressed

I need a place to vent and write out my frustrations. I need a place to put my inspirations. No one I know knows about this account. makes this the perfect place to do so.

[intellectuallydepressed]

Every generic Suicide poem ever

This one is for our last stand, our last breath that pierces the silence we enclose ourselves in as we continue to cope in sin. This is for our last chance, ok at a glance, but underneath we're barely holding on. For all the feelings we have that can't be expressed so bottle them up like the alcohol we drink to drown ourselves and feel numb. Numb, and nothing. That's what it is. That's what we desire, to feel nothing. To end our story, and just close the book. Embrace the darkness. No more pain, only nothing.

[intellectuallydepressed]

Ramblings

I have writers block. I know I want to write, and here I am again, desperate to get words down on paper. But all I can seem to do is say nothing in a million words. It’s incredible, really, how little we actually say to each other. Day after day, conversation after conversation. How many words we speak that have little to no weight behind them. And I’m scared I’m falling into that trap. That horrendous cycle of nightmarish nothing, where I speak words that don’t impact the world and people around me; but rather I am merely another speaker of nothing. Words have power, and the better we use them, the more they have. Why do you think meaningful conversation is so attractive, because we are so used to speaking in nothings that it brings a new light to what words could actually be. I think we just maybe need to find a way to make every conversation meaningful, at least, that’s my hope. 

[intellectuallydepressed]

There Is Love In Letting Go

Freedom is an expression of love. Not the freedom you give to your significant other while they go out to the club. It's the expression when you know you're doing nothing but holding them back so you cut the strings that connect your hearts, breaking your bond in the hopes of ending their bondage to you.

Letting go is expressing that you love them so much you can't bear to hold on to them for fear you might make them miss what they could be. Letting go is the realization that you are nothing but a toxic pool of kind words and affection, and you cannot keep them there any longer for fear of them drowning and losing themselves in in it.

Letting go is the last act of kindness you can show someone whom you loved. The last test of your willingness to sacrifice for them, because if you can sacrifice the "us" for them, then you truly understand what love is.

Allie. I love you. So I'm letting you go tonight in hopes you might become better than you ever thought possible.

[intellectuallydepressed]

A single Violin

A single violin, that's all it can take. To break through the silence of the night, serenading the creatures all around it. Causing the lightning bugs to strike up a pose and dance with thunderous vigour, flickering to the rhythm of the song. The night owls and street rats forget their tussle as the sweet sound of fellowship rustles the leaves in the wind. The music bridges the gap over the river as it flows, allowing for all people to cross it, and listen to this single violin.

[intellectuallydepressed]

Late Night Ramblings

I'm laying in bed right now, and I just need to write out my thoughts for a bit. I've been watching My Drunk Kitchen on Hannah Harts YouTube channel, because she's a hilarious person as I've recently discovered. But, watching those, I have been thinking a lot about myself. Like, maybe I'm not doing everything I could be. And I've let myself fall into a weird state of complacency with nothingness. Like, putting this out there, I've recently been diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety. Not surprised at all, it runs in the family and I've known for years, just too stubborn to get help. Well, it got extremely bad recently, so I moved home. I dropped out of college. I've been jobless for almost a month now. I start one soon, but it's only part time. So, it's not taking up a crazy amount of time. The issue is, what do I do with the rest of my time? Like, what do I do with my life? After watching videos, and doing lots of self reflecting, I think it's time I put my writing passion back to good use. I once wrote a 60 page, single space word document for a book I wanted to write. Then I got bored of it. Didn't like the idea anymore. So I scrapped it. I have another idea, and I've been toying with it for years. But, I've never really put the pen to the paper and written it. But, with this new found time, and stuff, I think I need to. I feel like it's time. I'm at a crossroads in life, where I can decide my path, and that's the path I feel like I should take. Because, let's face it, no body wants a real job. I would rather write a book than sit in an office. But that's just me. But, I have the opportunity to pursue that dream, so I'm going to. Good ramblings everyone. -ID

[intellectuallydepressed]

The Last Night We Were In Love

I remember that night fondly, the last night we were together. I dream about maybe, possibly, it was almost forever. I didn't want it to end, you were my best friend. I wish maybe we talked still, but I know it's not how things work. It hurt to say goodbye, the last night we were in love. I know this isn't how I should be talking, because after all I did the walking. Away from each other we moved, and the distance between proved more difficult than we knew. A challenge we couldn't overcome, I guess we we had stopped listening to the parts that were breaking, breaking the last night we were in love. I still hear our song, the one we danced to all night long. Most of the time I have to skip it, because I don't feel like thinking about it or us or what we used to be. I don't want that again, it's not who I am. It's not who we are, not anymore. No, that spot is no longer sore. It doesn't hurt anymore. But we still danced our last dance, kissed our last kiss. Our friendship I dearly miss, but it seems to have died, on the last night we were in love.

[intellectuallydepressed]

I'm Sorry Mom

I'm sorry mom, but I'm not ok. I wish I was, but I can't pretend anymore or go on this way. I am tired of being sad. I am tired of laying in bed all day, barely having the motivation to keep myself alive, let alone to go and live. I'm sorry I am putting tears in your eyes and a tear in your heart. I'm sorry I'm not the glowing embodiment of everything you dreamed I would be. I'm sorry I smell like depression and self loathing, but that's what I've become. I'm sorry mom, but I'm not ok.

[intellectuallydepressed]

Ramblings #2

I hate silence. It's the worst thing in the world. It fills the void when sound is absent, and creates a space for thoughts to bubble up like boils in our mind. The things we don't want to think about. Those embarrassing moments from school, or the things we wish we'd never said. All of them push into our mind as reminders of our failure. So I hate silence. Because there are so many things I don't want to remember or think about. Maybe that's why I, like so many others, wear headphones like it's our religion. Because they make sure the silence stays away, blaring guitar riffs and vocals into our minds that we feel on a spiritual level. Connecting to us like a friend we've had since we were born. Music that scares those who don't understand, and attracts those who do. Bringing us a family of people who hate silence, so we get loud, get proud, and maybe get to a point where silence isn't as scary because we have people next to us for support. But, currently, I am alone. So, I hate silence.

[intellectuallydepressed]

Demon Dance

This is the dark place, that sad face, the one you can't seem to hide. From inside of you, it bursts through, the evil thoughts inside. The lightning cracks, and your mind snaps as the music pounds like thunder. Tonight we fall, slip as we try to crawl, to the burning pits down under. This is that demon dance, the drunk romance, the bloody cure, we don't know for sure of what they sing, or what tomorrow will bring. But it's all for nothing, as we lay back puffing, and panting in this hell we made ourselves with bo escape, we can't erase what we have done. Our time has come to dance into forever. As rain pours on, the thunder roars and pounds away like our beating hearts. And fades away into the night, no more torment, no more strife. We dance this dance with a knife, a bottle, or maybe both, because in this game we only lose, but it isn't a game you choose. It's one you are born into, a twisted demented fate to have, and yet we march 10 million strong, until we sing that song in the rain, where there's no more pain, we lost the fight, we finished the demon dance tonight.

[intellectuallydepressed]

3 Sided Box

I am trapped in a three sided box. I have these walls around me, blocking me from moving anywhere but back. But, behind me are the things I don’t wanna face. And so, I am trapped in a three sided box, scared of the noises behind me, afraid of what they might do to me. I’m afraid that if I turn around I’ll see myself and what I used to be. I’m afraid I’ll see what I’ve become. So, I will continue to be trapped by a 3 sided box.

[intellectuallydepressed]

Ramblings #1

Here's a little change of pace. I'm not writing a poem. Just, late night rambles. I'm laying in my bed, slightly buzzed, and I'm thinking to myself I really wish I had someone next to me. I really feel like this bed is only half full. Now, I could fill this gap easily. It wouldn't be hard. But, at the same time, I don't wanna fill it with just anyone. There's someone certain I want there, and not really anyone else. But, that someone can't be there, even though we both want it to be that way. So, I could fill that space with someone random until she can fill it, but I just leave it empty. I have no obligation to do so, but I do. I'm starting to think that's because the thought of filling it with someone meaningless is worse than it being empty. Maybe the empty space is just like the 0 in number 10, a place holder. And, eventually, there will be something in that space. I can't wait for the day that space is occupied again, because that means the good finally won. Correction, it means that good finally chose to win for me. Because, good always wins, just, not every battle. Unfortunately, I feel like it hasn't won any of my battles before. I just want her in that space next to me, every night. No one else. I want to hold her, and never let go. Unfortunately, the universe doesn't like that plan, and has thrown every wrench in the mix possible. But, it has to run out of wrenches eventually. And at that point, well, then she will finally fill that space. And I can't wait for that day. If you read all that. Congrats. It's just the ramblings of a lonely person. -ID

[intellectuallydepressed]

Expression

Fuck. Fucking shit. Fucking hell, god damn, shitty titties, little bitch. Why, why, oh god why? What the hell. Why?. Fuck me. Oh god.... I feel like leaving. Like just leaving this behind, and escaping for a while. I am drowning. Drowning in this sea of self hate and darkness, falling into the depths that are unknown to all, but we fear more than anything we know. I am sinking faster than I can be saved, faster than I can try and reach out slowly through this emotional bloodbath to the hands that try to grab at me. I am sputtering, coughing, gasping for breath as I put the knife in my own back, sabotaging my own happiness. Because that's what you do when you have the double edged sword, you cause yourself to bleed as much as you do others, but you always end up with more cuts than those you attack. Your scars from the fight showing proud on pale wrists like bright lights in the night sky, and you desperately try to dim them. Keeping yourself hidden, down in those depths. Fuck. Fucking shit. Fucking hell, god damn, shitty titties, little bitch. Fuck

[intellectuallydepressed]

I'm not going anywhere

And don't you forget it. I haven't stuck around this long for you to just throw us away. I'm not giving up just because you have. I will fight for us, because I love you. So no, I will not leave. Don't tell me no one wants you, because I still do. I am here, listening, waiting, always ready to help. Never forget that. No, I will not leave you. Not when you need me. I won't leave you. I am not free. Not when I feel connected like this. No, you're not disgusting, you're beautiful. You're amazing. I just wish you could see yourself the way I do. I'm not free, you still have my heart. I can't leave. As much as you pleade, I can't. Because I love you more than you know. I am always here. I am your friend till the end. I can't leave you, because I'm not strong enough either.

[intellectuallydepressed]

Go Away

I said go away. Don't you know how to listen? I want nothing to do with you. I hate you. Leave. Never come back. Please just leave me alone. You are the last person I want to see. Don't come here ever again. Don't you understand. This doesn't work. It never will. I'm no good for you, and you're not good for me. It's toxic and I hate it. Just, leave now. Please. This isn't what I want anymore. I'm done talking to you. Please. Go away. I'm a terrible person. You deserve better. I'm broken, and disgusting. No one wants me. No need to be the person who is stuck with me. Be free. Go on. Just leave me like everyone else. I love you, but you have to leave. It's too painful. I can't keep this up. I hate that I love you, because I just can't move on. Please go away, you have to leave me, because I'm not strong enough to leave you...

[intellectuallydepressed]

Sitting on the Stairs

I am sitting on the stairs. I'm sitting here in the dark, alone, because that's where I want to be. I am sitting here, able to hear the lively conversation of the people in the next room, the laughs, the fun they are having. But I am sitting on the stairs. I am sitting here because I have convinced myself I don't belong in the other room. That no one wants me in there, or cares what I have to say. That my input isn't valid. So I sit in silence on the stairs. I am sitting on the stairs, and I feel invisible doing so. I am sitting here, hoping, praying, desperately needing someone to come talk to me. To ask me to join in on the conversation. To make me feel welcome in the situation. But no one does. Because I chose to be here, on these stairs, and they think I want to be left alone. But I don't. Yet here I am, sitting on these stairs. Away from everyone, and maybe I shouldn't be. Maybe I should get up myself, but I can't make myself. I can't get myself to take the steps down to join them. I have no motivation, no will, no desire. So, as the night goes on. I won't join in on the festivities. I will simply sit here, alone with my own thoughts. I am sitting on the stairs.

[intellectuallydepressed]

What's one more sin

What’s one more sin To the man who's​ commited a million. Who has done so much bad the he’ll stain anything black. You can’t threaten him with damnation, because one and one million bring the same consequence. Because he’s shooting to be the worst of them all. To put Satan to shame, and claim the throne of death. He claims bot perfection, but bathes in mistake. He’s simply a man, who does what he wants. What’s one more sin?

[intellectuallydepressed]

When Falling, You Don't always do it Alone

Hearts beat and lips speak The drinks flow and still I feel like there’s no hope It’s you and me in this dirty place, but you hardly even recognize my face It’s simply lust, not love in your eyes, but I don’t seem to care tonight. One last stand, one last caress, I know there will be nothing left For me to find of you when I wake, but still tonight at least I’m not mourning The loss, the bitterness, the tears that come with the rising of the morning sun. So darling please know this to be true I haven’t fallen out of love with you.