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Going Through the Motions

Writing used to help lighten the impact of life. The words would come out of my heart, off of my chest and unburden me. Sometimes more than that. because when I read them back, they would somehow explain me to myself.
Nowadays, the weighted words stay heavy. Its a struggle to get myself to write at all, and I only do it to save hope in the magic that once was. I feel that continuity will do some justice for the concept.
I read a woman's story of her fight with ovarian cancer- first thing I came across on a search I was performing to get a little more raw, and find out what's really gonna happen. It gave me so much hope. Her original case was similar to my mom's I think, She had 2 recurrences, and her 3rd remission has been 7 years and counting. That is so wonderful.
Now why isn't my depression melting away? Why is smiling still impossible, and I cry over ridiculous things, and am always irritable. I had such a hopeful discovery and I want a break from the sludge

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Eyedea
wrecktangle
Kismet Witstatic
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