Martian Notes

It feels like gazing into the rising tides, alone in a deserted beach. The inflows of water pour in, touching the toes, sneaking up the knees and eventually, devouring the body silently before completely vanish.

This is how depression attacks. There is a vast wasteland upon the mind, deserted and withered. The sense of hopelessness creeps in and grows madly in the unspeakable silence. The hands are tied but not tied. The feet are chained but not chained. The feeling of liberty quietly slips away. The invisible cage throws upon the vast dark cloud among its inhabitant.

It smells like dying but it doesn’t. Death is closer to freedom, as it liberates the capitivated mind and lets go the overburdened body. Depression is the uncontrollable occurrence of the state of emptiness, the constant surfacing of the unfilled void capped inside an empty soul. There it is. Empty, meaningless, nothing but blank.

Unchain my shackles and let me out. I failed in screaming, shouting, or any exhibition of signs of life. Because how lifeless, tormented and wasted this tired soul has been, not under external influence but the ingrown devil of depression.