Today I went to recharge myself but I ended up tiring myself. Today I went to the gym. Today I did fifty bicycle crunches. Today I took a bus ride. Today I sang to the radio. Today I vacuumed. Today I washed my clothes. Today I took out the bin. Today I did the dishes. Today I stuck up for myself. Today I washed my face. Today I brushed my teeth. Today I got out of bed. Today I decided to get out of bed. Today I recharged myself. Today I am dead inside. I want to cry but what is the point? I cry and then cry again. There is no dearth in my tears. There is nothing missing in my sadness. No void in my void. I am done, guys. I’m so done. I’m sorry I’m just depressing all the time. I thought this would help, you know? I thought writing about it would help. But at the end of the day, I still cry myself to sleep and wake the next day to repeat it. I recharge my batteries just to flatten them again, and it hurts the same each day.
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