{"version":"1.0","provider_name":"Memories","provider_url":"https:\/\/memories.cafeblog.hu","author_name":"AudreyCondemned","author_url":"https:\/\/memories.cafeblog.hu\/author\/AudreyCondemned-2\/","title":"Departed","html":"<p><link rel=\"File-List\" href=\"file:\/\/\/C:%5CUsers%5CAUDREY%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml\"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>  <w:WordDocument>   <w:View>Normal<\/w:View>   <w:Zoom>0<\/w:Zoom>   <w:HyphenationZone>21<\/w:HyphenationZone>   <w:PunctuationKerning\/>   <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas\/>   <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false<\/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>   <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false<\/w:IgnoreMixedContent>   <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false<\/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>   <w:Compatibility>    <w:BreakWrappedTables\/>    <w:SnapToGridInCell\/>    <w:WrapTextWithPunct\/>    <w:UseAsianBreakRules\/>    <w:DontGrowAutofit\/>   <\/w:Compatibility>   <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4<\/w:BrowserLevel>  <\/w:WordDocument> <\/xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>  <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState=\"false\" LatentStyleCount=\"156\">  <\/w:LatentStyles> <\/xml><![endif]--><style> <!--  \/* Style Definitions *\/  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal \t{mso-style-parent:\"\"; \tmargin:0cm; \tmargin-bottom:.0001pt; \tmso-pagination:widow-orphan; \tfont-size:12.0pt; \tfont-family:\"Times New Roman\"; \tmso-fareast-font-family:\"Times New Roman\";} @page Section1 \t{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; \tmargin:70.85pt 70.85pt 70.85pt 70.85pt; \tmso-header-margin:35.4pt; \tmso-footer-margin:35.4pt; \tmso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 \t{page:Section1;} --> <\/style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>  \/* Style Definitions *\/  table.MsoNormalTable \t{mso-style-name:\"Norm\u00e1l t\u00e1bl\u00e1zat\"; \tmso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; \tmso-tstyle-colband-size:0; \tmso-style-noshow:yes; \tmso-style-parent:\"\"; \tmso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; \tmso-para-margin:0cm; \tmso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; \tmso-pagination:widow-orphan; \tfont-size:10.0pt; \tfont-family:\"Times New Roman\"; \tmso-ansi-language:#0400; \tmso-fareast-language:#0400; \tmso-bidi-language:#0400;} <\/style> <![endif]-->  <\/p><p class=\"MsoNormal\"><span style=\"color: rgb(128, 0, 51);\"><span style=\"color: rgb(128, 0, 51);\"><span style=\"color: rgb(128, 51, 51);\"><span style=\"color: rgb(153, 51, 0);\"><span style=\"color: rgb(153, 0, 0);\"><span style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\">Hi, I\u2019m Dree Departed. How could I be departed, you ask? It\u2019s simple. A part, or rather, parts of me died. I killed them. I committed suicide to kill my demons out of me, but I didn\u2019t realize they had slowly eaten themselves deep into my soul. So killing them meant killing myself. However, my body refused to stop working, so it has stayed here on earth. Poor thing. Nevertheless, it\u2019s not so bad. It\u2019s like fasting. No nutrition, no feelings, no poison, no leftover, there isn\u2019t anything to digest, to get over. No depression, no freaking out, only the blessed emptiness. Isn\u2019t it wonderful? You\u2019ll understand when you get to where I am. But there is a long way in front of you to deserve this. You\u2019ll be suffering from pain, crawling on the floor, trying to rip out your heart beating so hard as if it would break through your ribs. You\u2019ll be crying blood when you\u2019ve run out of tears, and if you can\u2019t cry, you\u2019ll have to find another way to make the pain go away. You\u2019ll cut your veins, looking at your blood, feeling happy that all those bad feelings, like fury, anger, guilt, loneliness, and sadness are leaving your body, your heart. There will be only freedom left. But then you\u2019ll realize it\u2019s not enough. It\u2019s never enough. Crying and cutting are not enough anymore, you\u2019re already in too deep. Food, alcohol, and music can\u2019t help either. So you\u2019ll start to live on your pain, trying to dig out the old memories to keep you alive. But they\u2019ll also betray you. You\u2019ll keep holding onto them, writing about them to make sure they are real, that all of that shit did really happen, that you\u2019re not a pathetic daydreamer, who ran away from reality into the arms of the devil. But you are. You could find nothing good in material world, so you hid into your own one made of illusions. You knew it was just your imagination, but it still made you happy for those short minutes when you were there. So when you have used all of your handkerchieves, and your blade is stained with your blood, and food has stopped to ease your hunger for love, and your memories has started to fade away, you\u2019ll write. In the middle of the night, when everyone\u2019s sleeping, and they have no idea what you\u2019re going through. You\u2019ll write about what you wanted, who you loved, what grabs your heart and squeezes the life out of it, how you miss someone who has never been yours. You\u2019ll write at school, in your bed, instead of learning. You\u2019ll write onto paper with pen, into your skin with blade, into your heart with agony and disturbia. And you can erase the words from the paper, and the scars on your skin can heal, but your heart will never be unharmed, clean, whole again. It\u2019ll keep your desperate writing forever, all those silent screams you wouldn\u2019t let out, the scratching with which you wouldn\u2019t do any harm to the wallpaper. The surface of your heart can\u2019t be replaced. And when you can\u2019t take it anymore, when you\u2019ve had enough of the sleepless nights, the tearless crying, the voiceless shouts, the loveless heartbreaking, you\u2019ll share your pain with others, with your friends or with the one who pushed you into this bottomless madness.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><span style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\"> <\/span><span style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\">But everytime you\u2019re talking about how much it hurts, how you want it all to stop, you feel ridiculous, you think there are no words to describe what\u2019s happening inside, so it\u2019s not even worth trying. They wouldn\u2019t understand anyway. So what\u2019s left to do? What\u2019s the last step if you\u2019ve done everything to stop the storm rampaging in your soul, the riot in your head, the bloodshed in your heart, but nothing has ever worked? Letting go. Sacrifice. Murder. You\u2019ll have to sacrifice the poisoned parts so that the healthy you can move on. It\u2019s like amputation. You\u2019ll ease your body of the chains which tied it to your suicidal heart. Now you can breath fresh air but not vitality, you can hear other sounds apart from your own pitiful thoughts but not laughter, you can see the world in its own colours but without sunlight and smile, you can feel warmth and touch on your skin, but they don\u2019t make your heart burn anymore. You can come clean but not by crying, you can eat, but nothing can nourish your soul. You\u2019re not living, you\u2019re vegetating, but this is not temporary. It\u2019s a fast that never ends. A coma you never wake up from. Neither life nor death. Like the undead. Immortal emptiness. How sweet. How relaxing. No more surprises. No more life. It\u2019s gone, just like you. Departed.<\/span><\/p><span style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\">  <\/span><p class=\"MsoNormal\"><o:p><span style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\">&nbsp;<\/span><\/o:p><\/p><span style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\">  <\/span><p class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-align: right;\" align=\"right\"><span style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\">\/2009.08.25. 03:49\/<\/span><\/p><p class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"text-align: right;\" align=\"right\"><br><\/p><p><\/p><center><img style=\"width: 479px; height: 690px;\" src=\"https:\/\/memories.cafeblog.hu\/files\/broken\/Broken_by_0verdoze_of_dreams.jpg\" class=\"blogkep\" align=\"center\"><\/center><p>  <span style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;\"><\/span><\/p>","type":"rich"}