I close my eyes and try and shut him out. My fingers don’t want to stay in time. They want to race ahead in fury, plunging into the dense fog of black notes, pulling the music out by its roots, hurlin...
In some indefinable way he felt drawn to her, as if he already knew her, as if they had been close friends, soulmates even, somewhere in a previous existence. Her mere presence seemed to calm his thou...
It's always nice being fancied. It's always nice being wanted. Even it it's by the wrong person.
They say when you really love someone, you should be willing to set them free. So that is what I am doing. I will step back and you will move on. I will let you go. ... Your happiness means everything...
He has little hope that university, when he gets there next year, will be any different. Like right now, all these pupils taking notes as if their life depended on it. All for what? he wants to shout....
School is a pile of crap. School has always been a pile of crap – he had just never bothered to think about it until today.
Within the grand scale of things, sitting in a classroom day after day is so utterly meaningless and pointless that it actually makes his chest hurt to think about it.
I am sure that music was never meant to sound this harsh, this painful.
Out of the millions and millions of people that inhabit this planet, he is one of the tiny few I can never have.
It's always nice being wanted. Even if it's by the wrong person.
...and my loneliness, always my loneliness - that airless bubble of despair that is slowing stifling me.
They say that depression makes you see everything in a negative light. I disagree. It makes you see things for what they are. It makes you take off the fucking rose-tinted glasses and look around and...
I dial her mum's number, then sit down cross-legged, facing the wall. When she comes on the line, she sounds uncertain, hesitant. 'Hey! Guess where I am?' I ask, my voice loud with false cheer. 'Rami...
Everything hurts. He can barely lie still. He feels caught. He wants to run, but where? He feels certain he will always remain like this - trapped within his own body, his own mind. The emotional pain...
The sight of such aching beauty would infuse his soul with pain.
But whichever form it took it brought with it, in those moments of bitter anguish, such a desperate surge of hope that it was almost untouchable, and flitted away like a golden butterfly into the brig...
At what point do you give up - decide enough is enough? There is only one answer really. Never.
I might appear confident and chatty, but I spend most of my time laughing at jokes I don't find funny, saying things I don't really mean - because at the end of the day that's what we're all trying to...
As the light begins to intensify, so does my misery, and I wonder how it is possible to hurt so much when nothing is wrong.
How can something so wrong feel so right?
