I realize that I literally just posted, but I got all fired up with that and I have some more I would like to say. 

I rant, a lot. There is just so much pent up aggression inside my tiny body and I have a lot to say. 

My fire was born when I was little, I got it from my dad. (Mine just might be a little bit more tamed to say the least.)

It’s fed by this dumb ass thing we call life. 

Society fills that life up. 

I’m sick of society. 

We started out as a hardworking people. We were more advanced than anybody, always moving forward, working to make our lives better, easier, simpler. 

I think we just got too good at it. 

Our lives are too easy now and we take all of that for granted. We have given over the lead to Europe and Asia, let go of the reins and became worthless pigs only looking for a good time and a burger. 

Nobody tries anymore. Americans have given up hope on life and just stopped caring. The smallest struggle becomes the world and a reason for suicide. The tiniest mistake becomes a hammer to the face and a reason for that first cut. 

All the worst things have become a new “fad” to the public eye. 

Cutting, suicide, and depression are NOT fads. 

Depression is a serious condition, in which the brain has a chemical imbalance and does not function like the regular human being.

Those of you out there throwing your bloody arms out for the world because you don’t have enough attention, are the ones who have given those with a real medical condition a bad name.

There are people out there, so deep into pain and sadness that they just can’t function and truly believe that life on earth is unbearable.  They will lie in wake, struggling to the point where they can’t differentiate reality from dreams/nightmares and slice open their wrists to feel alive again and find some sort of solid ground. 

Then there are those, who lie. They just lie in bed and find boredom. They are so genuinely bored, that they decide to be depressed. They tell people that they are “just done” and need to die because no one cares about them and they show them the cuts on their arm for proof. They take pictures of the blood beading up on their skin and post them to tumblr and instagram, hoping for some kind of sympathy and security that they’re not going insane, they’re just “depressed”.

If you were depressed, then you would get your ass out of bed and get professional help and not sit there, ripping your arms to shreds  and put the pictures on social media hoping for people to give you some goddamn attention. 

Cutting is not an excuse, it’s a problem. 

Suicide is not a show-stopper, it’s an escape. 

Now, I’m not talking to those of you who hid the fact that you were so upset you felt the need to release yourself from mental pain, I’m not talking to those of you who got help for your issues.

I’m talking to the ones who dragged problems into their lives for an excuse to get some freaking attention, because god-knows you don’t have enough of that. 


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