* I have reached a point where I got so familiar with the colors of sadness and madness; they come wrapped in a big brownish ball - the color of human waste.
* I am sick of the color, the smell, the taste, and the feeling of deep shit!
* My heart is sinking, my soul is sulking, and a vicious crab is playing xo on my guts with its cutting edges.
* I turned from the inspiration to the burden; from the muse to the block; from the comfort to the pressure; from the real thing to the distraction; from the relationship to the rebound.
* There is a huge void in the center of my body; I have no passion, no thoughts, no drive, and no life. I am a drained air-vacuumed sac of human bones!
* I knew this feeling; the feeling deep down that the person at the other end is slipping away. I knew it is over and I knew that the more I held on, the more I would get hurt!
* Getting over someone is hard; ending a relationship is hard; overcoming a crush is hard; letting go is hard; I wished it would just hurt a bit then go away.
* I am now vomiting the toxic residues of a relationship that went sour; the leftovers of a person who poisoned my life!
* I've been hit by a bus; I do not want to get out of bed. I am sitting there hurting from inside. I am unable to reach into myself - where it hurts - to try to make it better .
* There are tears to go with the pain. Sometimes I just go numb then I am struck by a sudden pang of pain. I feel overwhelmed by anger at life.
* I tried resisting but the more I resisted the more difficult it got. It was like pushing a rewind button that would start the cycle all over again.
* Memories hurt. Unfulfilled wishes and dreams hurt. Anger hurt. The wounded ego of a person should have been worshipped hurt.
* The hole is getting deeper. The wound feels as if it would never heal. It is a vicious cycle that is just draining me.
* The peak periods are driving to, or back from, work, upon waking up, before going to bed, during meals, watching a movie, before a date, on a date, after a date, with family, with old friends, with new friends, at work ... I do not recall the rest of the times when I want to shoot myself!
* I never knew that misery can be seen, felt, touched, smelt, heard, and tasted.
* I know the drill by heart; sinking, sulking, aching, hitting rock bottom, then bottling it up, pushing it down, locking it in my black box with my other black memories, and then climbing my way up the tunnel.