Madness

This is my darkest hour.
He who reads this words is among the livings..i who wrote this words...is not dead nor living.
A zombie? a mutant? No...it is just depression. When you feel this, it's like you in another dimension, you think you're dead but at the same time the others can see you pretty alive.

So what i can say about this..about this feelings...well...it can be reality..or...a dream within a dream?

Those people in front of me..why are they crying...they are saying something..i can't hear...their faces...are foggy...
What now...they are smiling...i'm gone? Am i forgotten already? No it cannot be i need to fight this. This is not my hour. This is madness! I cannot take this any longer. I will fight this emotion.
Yes, they will see...my madness shall be their madness...but now..will stay like this..somehow is...good...it remembers my mother...maybe i shall sleep for now...

Pensamentos....

Night after night, sleep after sleep...i hear the same words...i hear the same voices...what i hear? many things..but the must strong thing is this...

"We are lost souls"...we? who are this "we"? maybe it's me but who is the other or others? Are the ones i see in the dreams...but wait...someone is the must stronger caracther...its that Harlequin in the Theatre of Sorrow...maybe if i follow those cries...i can finally understand...for now...i'll just wait...