The Irony of the Blue

By Karl Osric R. Mendoza

Sitting here on my laptop always drove me crazy. The fact that I have all these words in my head and yet I cannot conjoin any of it to form a sentence. I always hated it, these tangles of thoughts and ideas and yet here I am, trying my best to write just one story for everyone.

I only started to write because you came into my life. You said it was my words that made you come to me in the first place. At nights when you are restless and unable to fall asleep, you come to me and bother me just to make you a poem or two so you could settle down. I gladly accepted you, happy for the fact that I have you to write proses for a while. You took all my words.

However, writing about you was not something so easy either. My friends warned me of you, hoping that I will get rid of you as soon as possible. They even stayed with me just to keep you away. Nevertheless, I knew they will never stop you and the proof I need are the soft whispers you rest in my head, hoping that I will write about you again. I did, repeatedly.

For one thing, I always admired your tenacity. Whenever people look at you as if you are some monster that came from the pits of hell and whenever they try to tear us apart, the more you come looking for me. You never let go, you never gave up and because of that, I stayed wrapped up in your arms.

However, looking back to all those years I spent with you, I regret it now.

I am tired of you. You know, thinking about it, how could you be so full of yourself and be selfish enough just so I could write about you. You manipulated me for all these years, making sure I would listen to no one about leaving you and moving on.

You took everything from me. All the things that brought joy to me made you jealous and you disposed of them, making sure that I only have my eyes and thoughts focused on you. You gave me shadows to talk to, echoes for sounds to hear, you filled my bones with static and filled my head with white noise just to drown out those who cared enough for me.

Now, I am taking back my words, the courage you took from me to write to everyone. This will be my first and last to introduce you to everyone else so that you may never exploit them of their words as you did to me.

Now listen to me everyone, when someone by the name of “Depression” comes, hypnotizes you with monochrome hues, and speaks in jargoned codes, stay far away. You will lose more than what you will keep. Do not make the same mistake as I did. I hope that my story will just be the story of a man who danced with depression for all eternity so that no one could.