Hidden Conversations 

​This is a conversation between someone who has to deal with depression unsuccessfully and someone who believes there’s enough happiness to go around. Something we feel should be done on a more regular basis. Enjoy. 

The Depressed:

A lot of us are wounded you see. Carrying scars invisible to the human eye. Scars from past affairs,  scars from the “once a friend”, the scars placed from bullying, physically, emotionally and mentally. They never fade and we never heal, not completely anyways. Beneath those smiles, that laughter, is hurt. Youths with wrinkled eyes when a smile appears, eyes indifferent, cracked sounds of laughter yet unnoticeable.

The Hopeful:

A lot of us may not be. Somehow we see the scars that are invisible to others. We never want to be the past affairs, the “we were once friends”, or the psychological bullies that are spoken of. We just want to help The world heal. Beneath the laughters we see the pain and we offer without refrain a smile.

The Depressed:

Questions of how you see plague me. Humans of no such dark pasts, understanding the hearts of the disturbed. Unreal. What we seek is plain knowledge of hurt, maybe then you’d understand, maybe then you’d comprehend and appreciate the souls without life, breathing but not alive. Pardon me novice, you may try, but failure is certain.

The Hopeful:

Is failure certain? will you then say I’ve not put a smile on your face? Everybody has a dark past, some not as dark as others. And for us who you dim to be novice, it is just dark enough to understand the hurt you go through. I may not understand the souls without life, Im sure you won’t understand how I put a smile on the face of a living corpse.

The Depressed:

The walking dead you say? Truly I do not understand how you put a smile on such. But I wonder. Just how dark is your past? Just how dark is that past? Just how obscure is it? You appear to see, what’s it called? A silver lining. I don’t. We don’t. Walking unsure of our steps. Why? Because our pasts… are somber.

The Hopeful:

If I were to put a colour on it, it would be ashy, looking like remains of a fire quite averted before the start. They say at the end of the tunnel there’s light. You may not believe this, but offering yourself the slimmest of faiths could go a long way in turning what seems obscure, to genuine, tangible happiness.

This was written by Laurah and Slowzeus

Twitter: @slow_zeus @ashelylonnet

Insatgram: @slow_zeus @lu_iamlaurah

iamlaurah.wordpress.com

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