She said:

Typing on my phone right now, feeling so tired to open the laptop.

I am a woman of depression. I didn’t choose it but it is impossible to be a happy genius. I feel so low sometimes and I wait for the evening to come, to hide in darkness. Men who pretend to love me only love themselves. I throw a smile for I know all the truth.

I have to keep the truth in a box in order to live in a fake world. But when I suffer deep,like I am now, it goes out. I smoke a cigarette while looking at my PhD thesis that I’m working on lately, and try to avoid everything that could link me to the human world.

I lived with depression for years, and for years I never felt the beauty of love that I read in books. What beauty? I cannot be pessimistic , maybe I didn’t meet the One yet,as they say..great.

But who is that fu**ed One?Great.

I smoke and don’t cry . I want to forget that I am alive that’s why I am sharing my life with you.

I say to myself: try to relax, soon you will be a researcher,a professor ( not in English sure,for mine sucks), maybe spreading knowledge will make you happier.

I dream of the future daily, trying to escape my bleeding soul. You should sometimes remind yourself : Don’t blame others , don’t bleed on them.

Light a cigarette instead and listen to Charles Aznavour’s song : “Comme ils disent”, trust me, it’s amazing.

Here’s the link to it:

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