Remember, Remember the 5th of November.

Roaring flames.

How the light reflected off of my skin.

Delicious cotton candy

Warm Glow

I love bonfires. Don't you? I love everything about them. How the flames roar. The intense warm feeling you get in your gut. How the flames stretch up to touch their sparkling cousins the stars. The slow crackle you hear from the wood splitting and turning to ash as the fire dances between its wooden veins. On the 5th of November (this past Saturday) I went to my first Guy Fawkes bonfire Night and it was Amazing. I got to eat cotton candy and meet up with an old friend I hadn't seen in forever. the music was good and everyone seems to be happy. I also saw a few teachers of course. (Very common when living on a small island) But I think the best thing about this night was that I went all by myself. None of my friends who asked to come didn't. My mother said she would come but didn't. It's the first party I'd been to where it was my decision to go by myself and be perfectly happy to do so. At first, I was nervous to go ALL BY MY-SELF. But somehow I worked out. I watched the fire burn. I hear the snap, crackle, and pop. I saw the embers fly into the sky like gliding fire fairies. and last of all the precious warm glow of a fading fire. (My favorite part) I promise you there is nothing more simply wonderful than a bonfire night. I most definitely will remember the 5th of November. 

My crippling depression.

I write this blog now because I feel the emence pressure of life. Currently, I am crying my eyes out without anyone comforting me. And I'm falling hard back into the pit of depression. I've once again been slammed with the reality of the complexity of my life. And the struggle it bears. I now don't want to grow up. I don't want to go anywhere. Do anything. I just want to be done over with everything. I want to be completely alone with my depression. It took me years to climb out of this cavern and now I'm being pulled back in. It's not fair but nothing really is. I wrote a blog about someone going insane this week but my phone lost almost all of the content I wrote except for the first three lines. After finding this out I'm crying even more because all my hard work I was ready to publish vanished. I feel like the person I wrote about like I'm going insane. I somehow created this illusion that my life was a whole lot less hard than it actually is. I no longer have the desire to excel. I no longer wish to appear anywhere outside my house. I wish to completely disappear. I'm sorry if this seems to offend or seem selfish. But this is all I feel now one empty hole and no wish to change it until it wants to go away. My love for freedom and expression are dead. I'm not ready to relive horror I had to go through five years ago. That took two years to be over and three more years to have a contest silent fight. Yet it seems I'm here again on the same rollercoaster heading straight down.