I used to be a really cheerful person. How great was my life back then. I can't help but wish, hope, and pray that someday I could see the world the same way I used to.

Now I see the world black and white. There is no color, no laughter. Absolutely nothing. It's as if I'm the only one left, like I have no one to turn to. I have to fend for myself and be independent. I can't depend on anyone at all.

At one point, everything seemed to get better. I found myself drawing away, playing violin and piano to forget all the regret and sadness that had accumulated within the years. I found myself laughing again, singing, having fun. The life that I have wanted for a long time. I was truly h a p p y .

Then it hits me. I'm not supposed to be happy. I'm not meant to feel such a great thing in life. I'm worthless. Unimportant. I'm a waste of air. I'm a f a i l u r e .

And I try, and try, and try. I try so hard to hold onto whatever happiness I may feel. Each time I want it to last. Though other times I wish I never felt that type of emotion. Every time happiness slips away, I feel the pain. The loneliness. Each time worse than the last.

I try to find people to relate to me. Hoping that they can help me. Cheer me up. Make me happy. It seemed to work. I thought everything was solved. Then those same people brought me back to reality. They show me how wrong I was. How stupid I was to have ever dreamed of living life happily. Being carefree. Smiling freely.

At this point, I have lost all interest in everything. Drawing is meaningless to me. I'm just killing trees. I can no longer pick up that pencil and let it dance across the page. I can't express myself, since no picture I produce could every depict what I truly feel.

Music has failed this time as well. I'm not producing lovely sounds. I'm just making noise. A ruckus. A disturbance to everyone within earshot. My fingers, my arms, my feet. All of them have lost their ability to do what they have been able to do in the past. They can no longer make me happy. They can no longer distract me from focusing on the truth. Reality.

I can no longer cry. I can no longer laugh. Emotions have left me. I'm lifeless. A living doll. Going through everyday only because I am still alive by literal means.

I no longer feel hungry. I have no desire to eat. Though I try my best to please my parents. To make them think that everything is ok. So I try to eat normally. Struggling to swallow the food that I put in so much effort to chew. Just so they don't worry. I'm not worth worrying about anyway.

I wish to feel again. I wish to be alive inside. I want to listen to the little voice that says everything is going to be ok. But something inside me tells me that nothing will ever be ok. It tells me that no matter what, I will always be like this. Always trying to find the light at the end of that tunnel, but never succeeding.

Everyday, the only thing that I look forward to is sleeping. But yet I have a hard time drifting into slumber. In my dreams, I'm happy. I live the life I want. With friends I could depend on, a family that supports me. In my dreams I can make music, beautiful music that is pleasant to the ears. I can draw. I have the ability to express myself. I feel hunger and thirst. I am able to eat and drink without forcing myself. Everything is P E R F E C T .

Then I wake up. All the hopes and dreams once again shattered by cruel reality. I wish to dream again, but sleep no longer welcomes me. So I lay there. Looking at the ceiling. Waiting for something to happen. But nothing happens and eventually I have to rise. To go through another day trying to feel the emotion that has left me. Wondering to myself why I even try.

And then I wish, and wish, and wish that I never even woke up.

That I could dream on F O R E V E R ...