<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901</id><updated>2024-09-06T21:21:06.239-04:00</updated><category term="My Poetry"/><category term="Topics"/><title type="text">The Voice Of Much MADNESS</title><subtitle type="html">I'm mad but I'm not insane, I just have demons. Demons named depression, self-harm and anxiety. I write my madness out in poetry and my option on teen topics.  </subtitle><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/" rel="alternate" type="text/html"/><link href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" rel="hub"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><generator uri="http://www.blogger.com" version="7.00">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><xhtml:meta content="noindex" name="robots" xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"/><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-5673029423510688315</id><published>2018-12-21T10:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2018-12-21T10:24:18.068-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">The Noise</title><content type="html">Christmas is all about the snow, love and celebration. It is set in the month of December which has 31 days of dust and dawn.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The sun never fails to rise and made the snow glimmer and shine&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The sun never fails to set either, but this makes the snow glow as it seems. At night, the noise fades and the air becomes still, you can even hear yourself think for once.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are some who never stooping hearing the noise but its not the same noise. This noise comes from the mind and memories. Some scream in pain and others cry a river and some even make us bleed till no end.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The noise stays and some days, gets worse and worse until you reach a breaking point and make the blood fall. This, stops the noise just long enough to let you breath and relax but there is a catch like everything in life. The catch?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More noise coming from just more memories as this made new ones.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ne matter the snow or cold, the noise stays no matter how much the world relaxes&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There will always be a world full of noise in our minds</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/5673029423510688315/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/5673029423510688315?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5673029423510688315" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5673029423510688315" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/12/the-noise.html" rel="alternate" title="The Noise" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-8988945576243429893</id><published>2018-11-30T10:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2018-11-30T10:49:04.436-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">I am not strong</title><content type="html">Yes, I can beat you in arm wresting and I can pick you up but I am not strong&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I break with each step I take, trying to go further.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I shake feeling as if the ground is breaking right under me&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I cry as if there is no tomorrow&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I scream like I'm being killed in the worse way&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Yet,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
these mean nothing to you&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Why?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Because, I force myself to be strong with you. I must make myself strong for you because you need me, you all need me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
That is how it has always been, me forcing myself to be strong and you never seeing how weak I am&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I plan to keep it this way&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/8988945576243429893/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/8988945576243429893?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/8988945576243429893" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/8988945576243429893" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/11/i-am-not-strong.html" rel="alternate" title="I am not strong" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-8865262089839325343</id><published>2018-11-21T21:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2018-11-21T21:29:27.895-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Disappear</title><content type="html">I wish to be no more but not dead. I wish to stop moving but keep breathing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I can't explain what I mean nor can I show you but maybe I can write it out so here is my explanation:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Nothing&amp;nbsp;disappear&amp;nbsp;into thin air no matter how much they/it tries and I know this. When I say I want to die, I say this because there is nothing else close to what I want. For this is what I want, I want to be no more but not forever. I want to be no more for a short while just to escape my own mind and body. I wish to&amp;nbsp;disappear&amp;nbsp;but to come back.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
No matter how much I wish and pray, there is so way to disappear. There is only the inside and outside of the box, no third side.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I just want to be nothing, why can't I be nothing?!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Oh right, because there is no 'nothing' in this life. There is only life and death&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Next time you ask "&lt;strike&gt;Do you want to die&lt;/strike&gt;?"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
My answer will be yes because there is no other form of nothing&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/8865262089839325343/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/8865262089839325343?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/8865262089839325343" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/8865262089839325343" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/11/disappear_55.html" rel="alternate" title="Disappear" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-6099345176473523515</id><published>2018-11-19T13:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2018-11-19T13:47:48.952-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Illness Of Myself</title><content type="html">Most illnesses&amp;nbsp;can be cured by medication&amp;nbsp;or time. Now, I know the world is still working on curing some illnesses but for them, I wish the best.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I, myself have no&amp;nbsp;physical illness&amp;nbsp;which I'm grateful&amp;nbsp;for. I've seen how much others suffer due to said un-curable illness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, there is no cure for the mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is no fixing an illness where you fight yourself nor will there ever be peace. Yes, there are medications but they don't fix the problem, only make it more livable.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The medication&amp;nbsp;is like if you gave someone stuck in the ocean air, yes it makes it where they live but they are still stuck in the water.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of the worse feelings in the world is to see your loved ones get hurt by something within you there is no fixing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After a while, you learn to live in the ocean but one day, you might get sick of the air.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/6099345176473523515/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/6099345176473523515?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/6099345176473523515" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/6099345176473523515" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/11/illness-of-myself.html" rel="alternate" title="Illness Of Myself" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-7127574904417427474</id><published>2018-11-18T21:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2018-11-18T21:14:51.573-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Defend</title><content type="html">It is built in our systems&amp;nbsp;to fight back or to defend yourself from something and/or someone. The human body and brain try its best to fight to live and fight to protect yourself or others from harm. Its how most living things work, of course in different ways but it all comes down to protecting yourself or itself&amp;nbsp;and/or others from harm.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But what if the thing and/or person who is trying to harm you, is yourself?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One side of your brain screaming one thing while the other another thing. Sometimes, it feels like you are fighting another you but you can't protect yourself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yet, I understand it is just a illness in my mind and there is no 'other me' but it feels like it. It feels as if every day I fight myself to do normal things, to protect myself even though I cannot harm it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let's say I do protect&amp;nbsp;myself and I harm the thing that is attacking me. If I do this, it is harming myself and that is self-harm&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let's say I have had enough and I kill it...Well, we all know how that ends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
_______&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h4&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;A/N: Sorry I haven't&amp;nbsp;been posting much, school started so I can only post when I have time. &amp;lt;3&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/7127574904417427474/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/7127574904417427474?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/7127574904417427474" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/7127574904417427474" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/11/defend.html" rel="alternate" title="Defend" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-3489053096343325845</id><published>2018-11-07T16:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2018-11-07T16:41:40.877-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">I wish</title><content type="html">I wish I could explain the thoughts I have. All of the screaming thought I have on a daily basis, almost like clockwork.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It is like my thoughts are slowly but surely trying to kill me, trying to take over and no matter how many times you tell me it will be okay, my thoughts stay.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
My thoughts have no rhythm&amp;nbsp;or pattern, they do as they please and say what they wish. Yes, you can distract me sometimes but even on good days, they still come and go as they please.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I wish you could understand how hard it is for me to do normal things sometimes, how hard it is to exist&amp;nbsp;let alone live. Sometimes, even I don't understand why but I do know no matter how hard you try, there is no running from your own mind.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
For I can not explain my thoughts but if you sit in a room by yourself with no heat and have a tape playing all the things you have or said wrong, you may understand&amp;nbsp;a little more.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
One thing I know is there is no way you could last a day in my mind.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/3489053096343325845/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/3489053096343325845?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/3489053096343325845" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/3489053096343325845" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/11/i-wish.html" rel="alternate" title="I wish" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-8094246343472498524</id><published>2018-09-30T08:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-30T08:31:05.933-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Topics"/><title type="text">Mental illness is NOT a good story add on</title><content type="html">&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;"Aww, stories about mental illnesses are so cute! The pair always seem to fall in love!" &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;"How should I add more drama into this love story? Oh! Maybe one of them should be hidding a mental illness and then they get together!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This has been written about many times but I'm gonna share how I feel about this because WHAT THE FUCK?! I've seen posts and stories of people adding depression or anxiety or self-harm&amp;nbsp; eating disorders. This is NOT OKAY!! You don't add a mental illness into a story to make it more romantic. If you add it into a story, there is nothing wrong with that but when you add it JUST to make it more cute and sweet that is crossing the line. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;Mental illness is NOT CUTE! Me, myself I have only delt with self-harm, depression, social anxiety and Suicidal Thoughts so I can't say my thoughts on that. But I can say, depression is not someone crying in the bathroom and then there secret love finds them and tells them everything is gonna be alright. Then they cuddle and kiss. Most of the time, depression is just sitting in the bathroom praying to make there head stop screaming. Depression is not a 'add on' into a story to make things more cute, it IS not fun or cute to make depression, it IS living hell&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;Self-harm is something I have delt with yes but only cutting and scratching so I will only talk about those even though there are a lot more forms of Self-harm. Cutting is not your secret love finding the ravorblade in your room and hugging you and saying it is all gonna be alright. Then he cleans your cuts and you cuddle the rest of the night. Self-harm is always a FUCKING ADDICTION and it never stops! You can be clean and still wish to cut one more time! Self-harm is your cuts buring as the blood makes your leg stick to your pants. Self-harm is not being able to look at a knife without thinking of cutting again. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt; Scratching is not your love holding your hand and wiping your tears away. Asking why you do this to yourself and saying how much they love you. Scratching is running your nails up and down on your arm making it bleed. Scratching is putting ice packs on your arm to make you skin not feel like it is in fire. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;They both ARE living hell and a addiction.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;Self-harm scars are not your love finding your scars and kissing them. Then telling you how they just make you more beautfuil. Self-harm scars are wearing pants or wearing a long sleeve shirt so no one sees. Self-harm is a forever reminder of how much you hate your life of yourself. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;Self-harm scars ARE A living hell. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;Now, once again the last thing I can write about is social anxiety because I have delt sigh that too. Anxiety is not having a panic attack and your love kissing you to make it stop or them cuddling you to help you stop. Social anxiety is thinking of 100 outcomes of throwing a can away. Social anxiety is getting a panic attack in big crowds and feeling as if you can't breath. It is seeing someone laugh and feel like that are laughing at you. It is waiting till someone does something to make sure it is okay too. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;Social Anxiety IS a living hell. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Now like said before, it is OKAY to add this kind of stuff in a story but it is NOT OKAY just to add it for more of a romantic plot. These are fucking real problems! They are not fun or cute or anything like that! I get so upset whrn I see or hear this kind of still. Please for the love of god don't add this kind of stuff because it makes mental illness seem cute and sweet but in no way is! &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&amp;nbsp; - Sin&lt;/p&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/8094246343472498524/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/8094246343472498524?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/8094246343472498524" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/8094246343472498524" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/mental-illness-is-not-good-story-add-on.html" rel="alternate" title="Mental illness is NOT a good story add on" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-4772124243772667766</id><published>2018-09-30T07:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-30T07:41:16.083-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">My Friend(s)</title><content type="html">&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;I have a friend, they like to sit on my shoulder and sing to me. They like to laugh and joke and make people laugh. They always are willing to stop everything to help a person in need and do anything to make them better.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;My friend loves life and wants nothing more then to talk to people and make they happy. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;But...&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;I have another friend. This one Also sits on my shoulder but shows up when I'm alone. It whispers thought and tells me things no one wants to ever head. It will start yelling and screaming anytime, even if I'm not alone. It makes me cry and want to scream myself with all of the things it tells me. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;It never wants to be awake and it does anything to never leave. It takes 'naps' that last 5 hours because it makes the pain stop.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;These 'friends' are the two sides of me, depression and the fake side. No matter how hard I try, most of the time I must fake it and live my life. I must cover up the depression and fake it so my family hurts less. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;The only problem is, I've faked it so long, the depression might be the real me. &lt;/p&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/4772124243772667766/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/4772124243772667766?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/4772124243772667766" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/4772124243772667766" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/my-friends.html" rel="alternate" title="My Friend(s)" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-3892049572698578080</id><published>2018-09-22T23:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-22T23:06:11.898-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">   The Moments</title><content type="html">Yes sometimes I feel happy but no it never goes away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The times you see my happy and joyful it is because the pain and sadness is less, the rain has slowed. For a moment, I can breathe without my mind screaming and crying, telling me things that would drive anyone mad. For a moment I can smile without having to fake it and laugh without having to hold day a storm of tears that you will never see.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just because I'm smiling and I mean it, does not mean my mind is clean. I am not better nor have my demons faded, they have just stopped clawing at my hope and faith for a second.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No, you can not make these moments happen because it fits your needs, because it makes you feel better. These moments happen anytime they wish but don't come when I need them too. These moments come and go as they please, never fixing the problem but covering it up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Due to this, &lt;strike&gt;yes I fake it.&lt;/strike&gt; I smile and nod and laugh even though my head is screaming for this to end, for the pain and sorrow to subside. I will sit and lie while my skin screams to bleed once more to feed the demons for a short while.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, don't ask me again &lt;strike&gt;why I want to leave&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;because you can't understand, my demons scream so loud I can just feel death hovering over my shoulder like an old friend.</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/3892049572698578080/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/3892049572698578080?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/3892049572698578080" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/3892049572698578080" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/the-moments.html" rel="alternate" title="   The Moments" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-8872972581393140288</id><published>2018-09-18T22:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-18T22:31:20.399-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">The Three colors of being</title><content type="html">White is the color of light and freedom, beginning happiness to those who like in the light&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Black is the color of death and sorrow,&amp;nbsp; beginning pain and madness to those who live within.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With all of the being that lives and feel living in either color, I live in either. I don't dance is the light all the time but yet I don't sit in the darkness all the time either. I don't feel free but I am not dead despite&amp;nbsp;how I feel most hours.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I believe there are three colors of being, white, black and gray.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gray is the between of prisoner&amp;nbsp;and freedom, it is the space with people cross for only a few moments. People pass through gray when they feel pain and sorrow in order&amp;nbsp;to reach black yet they must pass through gray again to reach white being happy and free again. Gray is the between of joy and despair.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, I can't seem to pass either live, not black nor white. Somedays I lean towards&amp;nbsp;white while most days I lean into the blackness. It is as if I'm in between life and death, fighting with my demons to let me be in the white.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, of course, there is another color without a name, the nothing. The nothing comes after death, after reaching the end of the blackness. The nothing is different than other the others, it has no pain or freedom because it is nothing, a mix of white, black and gray. There are two ways to reach the nothing, passing through the white or the black but the gray has no way to the nothing because most are not stuck in the gray.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The between&amp;nbsp;is the worse of them all, not having a certain feeling nor a certain moment of passing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am stuck in the between, wishing to enter the nothing and skip the black and white.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just want the nothing...</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/8872972581393140288/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/8872972581393140288?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/8872972581393140288" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/8872972581393140288" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/the-three-colors-of-being.html" rel="alternate" title="The Three colors of being" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-1351682767806014961</id><published>2018-09-15T15:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-15T15:58:59.018-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Mirror</title><content type="html">&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I wish my mirror was broken then maybe I would have a reason to look dead inside, have a reason to look as if I have just came back from the dead.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I blink looking at myself in the mirror wishing it was someone else because all I see is a broken person with scars of sorrow written in her skin. My eyes full with tears as I stare back at myself, wondering how I got here. &lt;strike&gt;Did I do something? Was I always meant to be broken&lt;/strike&gt;?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I press my hand on the mirror hoping to become on with the mirror, to never see the light of day again but all this does is make my skin bleed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Now, My mirror is broken but I still look the same. A tear falls as I look in the mirror once again to see my eyes still dead and my soul gone just like a bird with no song left to sing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Now, this never happened because I won't even try to look in the mirror because I know it is me who is broken, the mirror just reveals to me what everyone else sees, a person with no song left.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="background-color: #cccccc; color: red;"&gt;Would you bother looking in the mirror?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/1351682767806014961/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/1351682767806014961?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/1351682767806014961" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/1351682767806014961" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/mirror.html" rel="alternate" title="Mirror" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-7739849189198077941</id><published>2018-09-13T22:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-13T22:07:00.953-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Untold</title><content type="html">The world filled with flames and war.&lt;br /&gt;
Angels and Demons fight for something both want,&lt;br /&gt;
Freedom.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Niether can win nor can they be set to freedom.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Both chasing something that never existed. It was just a dream, an illusion, a figure of imagination.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Because in this world,&lt;br /&gt;
This is no prize to win and no whole story to be told.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Only part of a story, never to be finished&lt;br /&gt;
Because,&lt;br /&gt;
The world filled with flames and war.&lt;br /&gt;
Angels and Demons fight for something both want,&lt;br /&gt;
Freedom.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But that my friend,&lt;br /&gt;
that unfinished story,&lt;br /&gt;
Shall never be untold.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/7739849189198077941/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/7739849189198077941?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/7739849189198077941" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/7739849189198077941" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/untold.html" rel="alternate" title="Untold" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-20528058412520934</id><published>2018-09-12T20:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-12T20:58:16.827-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Tips on how to deal with depression and stop self-harm</title><content type="html">&lt;h2 style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u style="background-color: #cccccc;"&gt;(TRIGGER WARNING!!! Read tittle)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;In this post I will be listing some ways to deal with depression/self harm. Before I list the ways, keep in mind I'm not a therapist and not all of the coping mechanisms may work for you. Some of the ways I will be listing were taught to me by a therapist I saw a little while back and some are ways I have found on my own. This is just ways to help get though it, not fix it. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ways to help with self/harm&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(may &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;relieve&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;the&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; urge&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; with no lasting mark)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Draw on your skin where you wish to cut. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(Mark or pen) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Hold an ice cube in your hand and &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;squeeze&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;and&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;tightly&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Put a rubber band &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;on&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;your&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;wrist&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; and snap it. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Put your hand in ice cold water. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
The whole point of this list was ways to relieve the urge but have no lasting effect. If you wish to try and distract yourself from the urge, read the next list. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ways to help with self-harm&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; (&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;distract&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; yourself from the urge)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Listen to loud music and pay attention to the music/&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;lyrics&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Take a nice shower &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(Or bath)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Watch your favorite movie/show &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(If you have seen that episode/movie, try to guess what they will say next.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Eat your favorite food &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(Slowly)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Count things&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(Numbers, rocks, corners ect.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Now, the point of this list was ways to distract yourself from the urge but not cause me pain. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The next and last list are ways to help get though a bad day. (Depression)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; (Ways to get though bad days)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Take a nice &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;relaxing shower. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Build a folder on your phone of things that make you happy and look though it on bad days. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Try and get yourself to drink something cold/hot.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(Something that will bring a shock to your mouth)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Write down how you feel then &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;tear&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; it&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; up&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Sit with a family &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;member/friend.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(Even if they don't &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;know, siting with someone helps)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The point of that list was ways to try and get though the day. Ways to try and find happiness&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Its hard, I know; Some days its hard to even do normal things. You can't give up on yourself, you deserve so much more then that. I would say it will get better but I know right now, that sounds like a lie. Also, I would say have a good day but maybe its not a good day? Instead I will say, have a normal day. Get out if bed, eat and drink, take a shower, watch tv. Just, live and I know that maybe that, living seems like the hardest thing imaginable but your strong enough to get though the bad days. You will see the sun again. You will smile again. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow but you will. I believe in you. Have a normal day, I know you can!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;"&gt;
.............................................&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #999999;"&gt;If you have something you want me to write about, please commnent down below or email me/message me on twitter!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #999999;"&gt;Email: &lt;a href="mailto:thevoiceofmuchmadness@gmail.com"&gt;thevoiceofmuchmadness@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #999999;"&gt;Titter:&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="https://twitter.com/VoiceMuch"&gt;https://twitter.com/VoiceMuch&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/20528058412520934/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/20528058412520934?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/20528058412520934" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/20528058412520934" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/tips-on-how-to-deal-with-depression-and.html" rel="alternate" title="Tips on how to deal with depression and stop self-harm" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-9067257466771360752</id><published>2018-09-12T16:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-12T16:40:18.430-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">You Have Nothing To Say</title><content type="html">You ask me "&lt;strike&gt;Why do you want to give up? You have a&amp;nbsp;unfathomable amount of good things coming your way! You have a good life, you are loved and cared for. You have no reason to give up&lt;/strike&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is true but my demons can come up with an&amp;nbsp;infinity number of reasons why I should.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One thing I wish you would understand is that this does not mean I will give up! I'm still sane enough to choice if I live or die. I am still thankful enough to sleep some nights.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, I know others have it worse then me, some can't deal with their demons. I did not choice to feel this way and knowing others have it worse, makes me fell worse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Until you have been a prisoner in your own mind, until you have listened to your demons yell and scream until you get use to the noise, you have nothing to say.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Live in my hell on earth, then ask "&lt;strike&gt;Are you okay?&lt;/strike&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
.............................................&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #999999; color: red;"&gt;What are some themes or words should I use in my poetry next?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/9067257466771360752/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/9067257466771360752?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/9067257466771360752" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/9067257466771360752" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/you-have-nothing-to-say.html" rel="alternate" title="You Have Nothing To Say" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-456506438072428786</id><published>2018-09-11T18:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-11T18:13:53.200-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Live With Them</title><content type="html">When we were young, we were taught that demons and monsters are only in our minds, they can't hurt us because they are just shadows.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are told most things that live in the dark are all in our minds and are just our eyes being filled with fear, disforming realtiy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wish this was true.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The part about how demons live in our heads is true but they can hurt. They can make our arms and legs bleed with self-hate or make us stay awake some night remembering all of the things we have done right, how many we have hurt because of our demons.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Demons infect out minds, making our minds and body work different; our demons tell us what to do and make us hate ourselfves more they how a cat hates a mouse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some of us die just to stop the pain and kill our demons&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you were ever to think "&lt;strike&gt;They don't rule you!&lt;/strike&gt;" live in our mind because you would be crush under the pressure and scream for it to stop.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The thing is, once you have demons, you can't kill them. You can only live with them or die with them.</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/456506438072428786/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/456506438072428786?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/456506438072428786" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/456506438072428786" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/live-with-them.html" rel="alternate" title="Live With Them" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-5295184716507704265</id><published>2018-09-10T19:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-10T19:43:52.193-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Behind Compare</title><content type="html">My soul is broken behind compare, this is true.&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Its cracked and scared with the pain and suffering I have went though in my life. It is twisted and bent out of shape, looking like a 2 tons was throw on glass then forgotten about; left to slowly fade from everyone mind.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
My scars leak hope as I lay there, blank face like a bare wall in a abandon house.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I've tried to fix myself and stop my soul from breaking but the pain is too much. You say &lt;strike&gt;I'm stronger then this &lt;/strike&gt;but what if I'm not? What if I'm meant to always be broken, to always hide away in the dark with my demons?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I might have once been strong enough to bare all of the wight that you and the rest throw at me because you were not strong enough. I've held that wight too long, I can't go on forever.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
However, I know you won't take that as a answer because I'm just a shoulder for you to cry on when you need it but what about me! When do I get to show my cracks and bends?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Exactly, I don't get too so stop telling me how strong I am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will you see, I'm not her anymore?&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/5295184716507704265/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/5295184716507704265?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5295184716507704265" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5295184716507704265" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/behind-compare.html" rel="alternate" title="Behind Compare" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-5337468874916851425</id><published>2018-09-10T05:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-10T05:25:16.161-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">Hide</title><content type="html">I know you care and I know you hate to see me in so much pain, therefore I hide it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hide the demons that live in the dark, I hide my tears behind a smile and a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know you deserve better then to see me in complete darkness, never wanting to see the light of day again; Praying to up above to end this pain and sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even if I wanted to show you, I don't know how or where to begin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is no point in sharing because my demons are a part of me, just like my lungs and heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If I were to tell you, how would you react?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe you would ask me for the hundredth time "&lt;strike&gt;Are you okay?"&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;or maybe you would tell me "&lt;strike&gt;You are better then to let this rule you!"&lt;/strike&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why can't you understand, I can't be strong anymore!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, you won't know because I'm always hiding.</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/5337468874916851425/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/5337468874916851425?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5337468874916851425" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5337468874916851425" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/i-know-you-care-and-i-know-you-hate-to.html" rel="alternate" title="Hide" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-1063508168704891035</id><published>2018-09-09T15:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-09T15:00:26.746-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Poetry"/><title type="text">The Rain</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;The rain fell, making the ground wet and pools of water fulled the floor;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;I tried to walk but I kept falling back, starting all over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;The rain seemed to fall for an&amp;nbsp;eternity, never stopping;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;Some days more rain fall, making me cold and alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;After a while, I learned to live with the rain along with the cold and the feeling of always being alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;I began to become numb and stopped trying to fight the rain, letting it fall as it pleased.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;I sat and&amp;nbsp;pondered about the rain, wondering why it took my happiness away and fulled my life with sorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;I know I should be happy and joyfull&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"&gt;How can I be when the pain is so painful?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"&gt;A/N:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"&gt;What does the rain mean to you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"&gt;(Answer in the comments!❤️)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/1063508168704891035/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/1063508168704891035?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/1063508168704891035" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/1063508168704891035" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/the-rain.html" rel="alternate" title="The Rain" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-5491965841477573780</id><published>2018-09-09T07:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2018-11-18T21:34:06.982-05:00</updated><title type="text">Introduction</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;section class="section section--body"&gt;&lt;div class="graf graf--p"&gt;
First of all, my names Brittney but people call me Sin. If you knew me, you would too think I'm mean and heartless. I live in America and I’m also a poet and that is what I'll be posting for the most part. Even though my name is Sin, I will be not putting my name anymore but instead, I will be putting&lt;strong class="markup--strong markup--p-strong"&gt; [-The Voice of Much Madness]. &lt;/strong&gt;If you would like to know why keep reading.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="graf graf--p"&gt;
Now, I won’t say my whole story but I will say this, for over a year now depression, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts have been taking over my brain. Know, I don’t want any of you to be thinking ‘stay strong’ or any of that shit; I AM okay. I have been told it all and I’m looking for any of that thank you. Now, I am starting this blog to talk about Mental Health but to also talk about things I feel strongly about. Why you may ask? I want to be heard! I want to let people know how I feel! I want to tell people its okay to tell how you feel.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="graf graf--p"&gt;
Some of my posts might be tips on depression/ anxiety while others might be the stress of school. I’m not sure how long each one will be but I will write as much as I can. That's really it, I know it was short but it was just the introduction. I hope you enjoy!!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;h4 class="graf graf--h4"&gt;
If you have something you want me to talk about please, comment down below!! &lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;hr class="section-divider" /&gt;
&lt;div class="section-content"&gt;
&lt;div class="section-inner sectionLayout--insetColumn"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/section&gt;&lt;section class="section section--body"&gt;&lt;div class="section-divider"&gt;
&lt;hr class="section-divider" /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="section-content"&gt;
&lt;div class="section-inner sectionLayout--insetColumn"&gt;
&lt;div class="graf graf--p"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;-&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;times&amp;quot; , &amp;quot;times new roman&amp;quot; , serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;The Voice Of Much Madness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/section&gt;</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/5491965841477573780/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/5491965841477573780?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5491965841477573780" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5491965841477573780" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/introduction.html" rel="alternate" title="Introduction" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891830047430862901.post-5779826525614672971</id><published>2018-09-09T06:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2018-09-09T06:52:50.215-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Topics"/><title type="text">Why is 'Not Okay" Not Okay?</title><content type="html">&lt;section class="section section--body"&gt;&lt;div class="section-divider"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; First of all, let me address something, what I mean by the title is sometimes when we are not feeling our best people are always trying to fix us. Why is “not okay” not okay? Now, as a teen who has struggle depression, anxiety, and all that fun stuff I can say it makes most days a shit storm in your mind. Some days you can’t even remember what a good day felt like. A day where you can just breath and laugh at stupid things; however this is not what we are talking about today as you already know.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="section-divider"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/section&gt;&lt;section class="section section--body"&gt;&lt;div class="section-content"&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; In this world when you sometimes look at the sky and want to die or when you can’t breathe because you have to pay for something, that means you are ‘mentally ill’ which is fine. I know sometimes, I freeze or just won’t go to the store because I will have to pay for something. It is an illness in your brain but that’s not a bad thing, there are millions like you, like me. After you live with it for a while, you learn what a bad day is for you and what a good day is, you just learn to live with it.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Something some people need to understand is that sometimes you just don’t wanna be ‘fixed’ you just want to be left alone, you just want to sit in your room and listen to your sad music or stare at the wall. Some days, you don’t want to sit and talk about it or leave and face the world, you just don’t wanna be fixed that day. This does not mean you give up, it just means you want space to breathe before your head blows up with the thoughts you already have. You get tired of people asking “are you okay?” Or “what’s wrong?” You just want to be ‘not okay’ and that is okay. When you have a mental illness, you are always tired of fighting your demons and talking to people around you who just don’t understand, it is &lt;strong class="markup--strong markup--p-strong"&gt;hell on earth.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Now yes, sometimes it is a great feeling when someone asks you “how are you” and it can help a lot so I’m not saying not to ask at all. I’m saying if we say “No, I’m good” that does not mean we are okay, it might mean we just don’t wanna be fixed at the moment. When you live with something like this, you learn the earliest way to live but when sometimes that is too hard some days. There is no handbook or magic pill, you learn as you go and some days you just want to lay in bed with your madness and not deal with being ‘okay’. So, listen here all of you beautiful madness ran minds, sometimes “not okay” is okay.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;strong class="markup--strong markup--p-strong"&gt;If you have something you want me to write about in particular, please comment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;ul class="postList"&gt;
&lt;li class="graf graf--li"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;The Voice Of Much Madness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
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&lt;/section&gt;</content><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/feeds/5779826525614672971/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5891830047430862901/5779826525614672971?isPopup=true" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5779826525614672971" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://www.blogger.com/feeds/5891830047430862901/posts/default/5779826525614672971" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="https://thevoiceofmuchmadness.blogspot.com/2018/09/why-is-not-okay-not-okay.html" rel="alternate" title="Why is 'Not Okay&quot; Not Okay?" type="text/html"/><author><name>Sin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933030911343783883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>