Untitiled

Sometimes you feel like the most depressing motherfucker in the world. And there's nothing to be depressed about in your life. You're a lucky motherfucker. You have everything you need, you have good friends and comrades and acquaintances and girls you fell for that aren't capable of liking you back. You have an abled body and haven't reached 22. You wake up everyday and try not to feel like a complete piece of shit. You try to do the right things, reading Marx and Engels and Mao and political economy and millitant tactics, and fight for the liberation of Palestine within your life time. You go out there to organize and talk to the people and do investigate and class analysis. You do your classwork decently enough so you don't get placed on academic probation. You call your parents and your sister very often cause they are all you have. You never admit out loud to anyone that you are fucking depressed. You tell people that perhaps you have something fucked up in your brain, like ADHD, OCD, or even brain cancer, but never admit that you are depressed. Cause again, there's nothing to be depressed about in your life.

But you don't know what's gonna fix you. Lots of drugs and lots of partying? Lots of girls and guys and whatever in between to make out with? Lots of friends that like you and never gonna switch up on you? Lots of lots of lots of something? A revolution personally fixex you? So you just kinda stuck in this limbo state, of not wanting to feel too much, but also wanna feel something that makes your more of a human being. And then your brain keeps reminding you of every time you fucked up. All the friends and comrades you lost in the process, wondering are you really a good person? It's not that without them your life turns into hell or anything. Parts of you know how you always try to pick a fight whenever a relationship is getting intense. You find a way to start a fight over nothing... So many unsaid words and feelings.

And you just kept thinking about all the "what-if" moments. What if she ditched that dumbass she's talking to and came to you? What if you didn't make your first move? What if you didn't pick up a fight? And there's nothing to write about. Actually, there are so many things to write about, but you are a fucking coward that can't even be honest with yourself.

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