I am looking for myself in between the gloominess of recent events and this profound dissatisfaction I am feeling towards anything I am creating. The deafening five day old silence on this timeline is all thanks to this crippling trait. This has nothing to do a with a writer's block because I am writing but there is this annoying negative attitude towards my own work that won't let me post most of it.
This might be because cupid found my usually ice cold heart and everything I am spewing is overly romanticized. This muse won't leave my pens in peace. Not that I want any of that but the OCD in me wants my lover desperately separated from my writer.
The courage to relive a few sad recent events and allow my pens to relieve my soul of this building pressure from unending disappointments has gone MIA. I am getting better at being selfish with my headspace. At wanting to suppress anything that is aiding in my empath getting trashed on situations that she got no control over.
Getting depressed over shit I can't do shit about is too real for me.
Like the rocketing cases of gender based violence and teen pregnancies where I am from. Two things that leave my fighting spirit drained and I can't help but get furious towards the inconsiderate perpetrators. I feel like for us on this end, the pandemic has brought out the kind of society we live in and it is simply maddening and outrageously infuriating.
Women are being murdered like squashable bugs especially by their spouses. Their own homes have turned into prisons and the current economic climate is not positively contributing to the decision of walking out. As someone who have lived a similar nightmare, I have a disturbing idea of how helpless most of them feel.
To make the matters worse, children aren't being spared too. Defilement and molestation is on the rise and because most abusers are people they know this often means them ending up dead. These plus those dying at the hands of their guardians whether depressed or possessed is the most heartbreaking part of my current depression.
Then there is the teenage pregnancies. Sigh. I am yet to understand how these grown men indulge in unripe bodies without shame. Men as old as over fifty are largely responsible for these unplanned states of parenthood. My shocked self is out of anything else to add... other than probably asking if my wanting all of them castrated is a bit too much?
See where my mind dives when I am constantly watching injustices go unpunished or lawfully dealt with? Such luxury is rare on my end as the gap between these unfortunate victims and the corridors of justice is too wide and my revengeful self which is more like my equality crusader refuses to settle for the filling graves or the free convicts.
I wish to stop there. How is your end coming along?
