I can hear them firing. I live less than a mile from the army shooting range. They practice, occasionally.

How many of you still remember Chernobyl? The radiation, the deaths. How many of you ever think of them now? More than once or twice a year?
Perhaps it doesn't matter, it has already happened. Perhaps it doesn't matter if you think of it anymore, if I think of it.

I'm dissappointed of life. I'm disappointed by the people. By everything.
There's a certain numbness that surrounds me nowadays. Exhaustion. The label 'depression' doesn't mean anything. It doesn't describe anything. It won't make anything better.
All the people who are depressed, there's no strength in that group. There's nothing to do. No options.

It doesn't matter if it has a name or a label or not. It doesn't matter if there are pills I could take. The pills wouldn't take away the reason.
I feel so powerless, so tired and I haven't even started doing anything yet. It's not that I don't know where to start, it's that there's no way of starting. No way I could change anything. I'm locked inside this body, these fears. I'm incapable that way, incapable of changing, of moving on.
I know where to start, at least some things, but there's no strength. That's why depression is such a vicious circle.
The way is there but I can't take the first step. I'm glued to the ground.

No, it doesn't matter. Yes, I could try taking smaller steps. But I'm running out of time. We all are. And I'm running out of reasons. Reasons to force myself get up, reasons to continue trying.
I used to have them, at some point. At least one, always. But I'm not afraid of death anymore, haven't been for years. The fear of death was replaced by hope and then by some good things that made me think world was an okay place for a while and then by apathy. And now I'm running out of apathy. No, I don't know if I can do that. It feels like it though. It feels like I'm running out of everything and even my body was tired, old, worn.

The time... the time is so long. It doesn't seem to end, ever. It doesn't seem to pass, not fast enough. Every morning is longer than the previous, every night I can't sleep through just goes on and on and on. And I don't object to it. I'm lost in time, it's like an old greyish blue veil that hides me from the cold and empty world. It blocks my sight. I know the world is there but I don't have to see. It's a blessing, that way.

Every morning. Every morning is blue. Blue like this font colour. I have synesthesia. I have a blue world.
Funny, isn't it? Insignificant, yes.

I'm tired of hurting, tired of trying.
If no one else initiates, there's no reason why I should.