Raindrop in a Pit Hole

“The sun stopped shining for me is all. The whole story is: I am sad. I am sad all the time and the sadness is so heavy that I can't get away from it. Not ever.” 

Nina LaCour, Hold Still

A suitable quote to questions thrown by many people,

 ”Is depression a choice?”

Depression has never been one of the choices by any other person in this world.

Logically, no one wants to feel sad, lonely and depressed at any course of his life. It’s like having a super typhoon on a summer bliss wherein instead of enjoying the radiance and heat of the sun and run through the swift of sea waves, you are locked in a four cornered room with so much fear and full of uncertainties on how destructive the typhoon will be and to when it should end.

It is somehow a life in Pandora’s Box, instead, you are one with the sorrows, loneliness, sadness and tragedies kept inside the box.

It goes back to how relative and variable life is.

Every raindrop is never the same, so as to the bucket and pit holes where it should land. It fills every space at different rate which makes it relative.

I just woke up one day and I felt empty, lonely or sad, and seems lost. I woke up one day that everything seems not to fit completely. My soul was lost, my thoughts were just  blank and I lived out of instincts – no goals to achieve.

I don’t really know when and where it started but my world was liked a bucket filled with water and then suddenly it flipped –upside down- spilling all the water on it in all directions and not even a drop to spare from a totally flipped bucket.

I started questioning myself, what is my motivation lately? What keeps me driven out of life?

Nothing. I wake up as soon as the sun is resting and sleeps when the sun is awake.

I have no purpose. It feels like I lost everything.

There is a kind of pain that I do not understand to what it really is. It’s like having a piece of expensive steak on your plate but when you slice a portion of it and chew on it, it tastes like water – Nothing.

My life had become bland. No flavor, no taste. Like a blank slate that has no calligraphy on it.

A canvass painted on black.

I am not suicidal but I am frustrated and disappointed. What have I become?