#year19

[upyourrainbow]

3%

Every day I lose hope faster than the last. Try to replenish my much needed optimism towards my life for 30 minutes. Yet another person comes and uses what what little energy I have left for negativity. Every day I feel like dying faster than the last. Every day

[glimpseoftales]

Year 19, Day 3

There were so many chances I did not take. So many opportunities I did not realize where even there. So many lives I did not save. So many dreams I did not follow. So many books I did not finish. So many friends I did not appreciate. So many loves I did not declare. So many letters I did not write. So many words I did not say. So many truths I did not tell. So many words I did not say. So many days I did not like. So many conversations I did not enjoy. So many nights I did not sleep. There were so many things I did. So many drugs I took. So many drinks I had. So much hate I felt. So many nightmares I dreamed. So many fights I lost. So many days I forgot. So many memories I made. So many dreams I abandoned.  So many friends I lost. So many things I saw. So many hearts I broke. So many battles I could not win. So many people I hurt. So many decisions I made. There's just so much I haven't seen yet. So many people I haven't talked to. So many things I haven't seen. So many places I haven't visited. So many dreams I haven't had. So many songs I haven't listened to. So many stories I haven't heard. So many flaws I haven't found. So many tales I haven't told. So many secrets I haven't shared. So many loves I haven't felt. So many lips I haven't kissed. So many things I haven't tried. So many tears I haven't cried. So many changes I haven't taken. So many laughs I haven't laughed. So many hands I haven't hold. So many books I haven't read. So many thoughts I haven't thought. So many fights I haven't fought. So many days I haven't lived.

[glimpseoftales]

Year 19, Day 1

I still feel the taste of liquor lingering on the tip of my tongue. I'm waiting for it to make me feel numb, but know it won't.

The sun is rising. It should hurt my eyes, but for the first time in years it doesn't.

Traces of white powder on the living room table. Traces of white powder under his nose.

I blink. Once. Twice.

There are only two options left and I've decided to start anew.