Sunday, 29 March 2015


"Why are you afraid of telling your deepest darkest secrets?" the voice inside me asked my inner thoughts.

"Because," I replied slowly, "What happens if I regret telling it, what happens if it ruins my life?"

"Why would you think that?" it asked me again.
"Well, look, people nowadays aren't trusted" I replied.
"Even your best friend?" it said, "Even my best friend," I confirmed.

"But wouldn't you regret not telling?"

I thought hard. Yes, apart of me does feel like I will regret. But I prefer playing safe. Safer than being at risk.

"You're a coward," it whispered to me.

"Excuse me?"

"You're afraid of people judging you. That the deepest darkest secret will be an entertainment to them. But they have secrets too you know? Maybe deeper, darker. You're afraid that once you tell them they'll look at you differently. That they'll see you under a different light, that you're no longer the person they assume you to be"

"Yeah, that's why I don't want to reveal it,"

"Maybe that secret is the cause for your weakness,
If you let it go, probably it will make you stronger than what you've been. It shows them your true self, you can't hide it forever. Eventually somebody will find out."

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'm tired" it said.

"Tired of what?"


"What are you blabbering about?" I asked annoyingly,

"Please," it said "please you need help" it pleaded.

"Shut up!" I screamed.

Mom came in through the door, she was holding a bag. "Here" she said. I looked at the container that Mom was holding on, it reads Antipsychotics.

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