Depression - Blog Posts
Don't be sad when I go .. don't pretend you didn't know, Berry that pain deep inside just like me it had to go
“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”
— Unknown
Unmmmmm for you maybe , pfffft I'm a broken ass gay bitch .. I need an want what I want k 😩 shhhhhh 🖤
“You don’t need people who don’t need you.”
— Unknown
Roses once red now they just dead 🥀 🌹.. whatever 🙄 .. she's happy 😊😔
you’re making playlists you and him will listen to on the road now. i’m nothing if not only in your rearview mirror. enjoy the trip, bitch
the stars were all aligned, and i found comfort in you instead of the self destruction i knew so well. it was like you had moved the stars into alignment, you were so heavenly to me. but as soon as you left, the stars began to fall from the skies. my constellations broke, and stars began to fade. i returned back to the self destruction. sharp blades found their home on my ghostly skin, drugs that people my age shouldn’t even be aware of were my closest friends, i found security in the arms of naked strangers. you were my safety, and now all i crave is danger so that maybe i could feel safe again.
You are not obligated to save others.
Yes, you should try to help them, yes, you should do your best, but sometimes your best isn't enough, sometimes your own struggle is so overwhelming that you can't concentrate on others and sometimes there are people who don't want to be saved.
It's sad, but it's not your fault. And I feel like this isn't said often enough.
You are worthy and loved, even if you don't sacrifice yourself for others.
Okay, so-
Ok so there’s this fanfiction I remember reading years back — and it’s changed my life. I distinctly remember it being called “I thou” (ik it doesn’t make sense, but that’s what I remember). I remember it ended on a pretty depressing note, where Nico asks will if he’ll ever recover— to which will replies with something like “let’s keep living” (or something). I also remember Nico suffering through several illnesses, and I remember this one scene where he’s at a bridge, begging for will to heal him. It’s also from fanfiction.net from what I remember — but I can’t find it for the life of me. Whoever finds it will literally be my life and savior - pls help TT. found this on Reddit, post by @Smellylefttoes if you are interested. Anyways, Now I wanna read it and can't find it. HElppppp!
I NOW KNOW WHY THE UNIVERSE GAVE ME DEPRESSION
BECAUSE IF I WERE ALLOWED TO EXIST WITHOUT IT WEIGHING ME DOWN, I'D HAVE THE ENERGY AND WILLPOWER TO DEFEAT GOD
I had some strong ass Vietnamese coffee today
Not to sound like a 90s shallow prep, but how you dress can affect your self esteem, and putting energy into wearing things you actively like and projecting an ideal of yourself through fashion instead of seeing clothes as things you have to put on out of obligation helps.
It also can give you a sense of control over your appearance that you otherwise wouldn’t have lmao
Just brushed my teeth for the first time in 2 & 1/2 weeks, feeling proud of myself.
Feeling good, feeling clean, gonna reward myself with some grapes later <3
i type in depression on tumblr and a message pops up wth
i’m so sleep deprived i can fall asleep anywhere and anytime BESIDES my bed at reasonable sleeping hours
My body is so needy, like madam I just fed you like 7 hours ago and now you want more food??? Unreal
US Helplines:
Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433
LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255
Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386
Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743
Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438
Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673
Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272
Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253
Child Abuse: 1-800-422-4453
UK Helplines:
Samaritans (for any problem): 08457909090 e-mail jo@samaritans.org
Childline (for anyone under 18 with any problem): 08001111
Mind infoline (mental health information): 0300 123 3393 e-mail: info@mind.org.uk
Mind legal advice (for people who need mental-health related legal advice): 0300 466 6463 legal@mind.org.uk
b-eat eating disorder support: 0845 634 14 14 (only open Mon-Fri 10.30am-8.30pm and Saturday 1pm-4.30pm) e-mail: help@b-eat.co.uk
b-eat youthline (for under 25’s with eating disorders): 08456347650 (open Mon-Fri 4.30pm - 8.30pm, Saturday 1pm-4.30pm)
Cruse Bereavement Care: 08444779400 e-mail: helpline@cruse.org.uk
Frank (information and advice on drugs): 0800776600
Drinkline: 0800 9178282
Rape Crisis England & Wales: 0808 802 9999 1(open 2 - 2.30pm 7 - 9.30pm) e-mail info@rapecrisis.org.uk
Rape Crisis Scotland: 08088 01 03 02 every day, 6pm to midnight
India Self Harm Hotline: 00 08001006614
India Suicide Helpline: 022-27546669
Kids Help Phone (Canada): 1-800-668-6868
FREE 24/7 suicide hotlines:
Argentina: 54-0223-493-0430
Australia: 13-11-14
Austria: 01-713-3374
Barbados: 429-9999
Belgium: 106
Botswana: 391-1270
Brazil: 21-233-9191
China: 852-2382-0000
(Hong Kong: 2389-2222)
Costa Rica: 606-253-5439
Croatia: 01-4833-888
Cyprus: 357-77-77-72-67
Czech Republic: 222-580-697, 476-701-908
Denmark: 70-201-201
Egypt: 762-1602
Estonia: 6-558-088
Finland: 040-5032199
France: 01-45-39-4000
Germany: 0800-181-0721
Greece: 1018
Guatemala: 502-234-1239
Holland: 0900-0767
Honduras: 504-237-3623
Hungary: 06-80-820-111
Iceland: 44-0-8457-90-90-90
Israel: 09-8892333
Italy: 06-705-4444
Japan: 3-5286-9090
Latvia: 6722-2922, 2772-2292
Malaysia: 03-756-8144
(Singapore: 1-800-221-4444)
Mexico: 525-510-2550
Netherlands: 0900-0767
New Zealand: 4-473-9739
New Guinea: 675-326-0011
Nicaragua: 505-268-6171
Norway: 47-815-33-300
Philippines: 02-896-9191
Poland: 52-70-000
Portugal: 239-72-10-10
Russia: 8-20-222-82-10
Spain: 91-459-00-50
South Africa: 0861-322-322
South Korea: 2-715-8600
Sweden: 031-711-2400
Switzerland: 143
Taiwan: 0800-788-995
Thailand: 02-249-9977
Trinidad and Tobago: 868-645-2800
Ukraine: 0487-327715
(Source)
Uhhh vent art kinda?
Needed to get some feelings out but don't have the energy to like actually draw so. Yeah little baby wrapped in blanket hiding from life
Invisible Artist
I never really wanted to make this to be a blog-blog, like write anything other than describe my art and put hashtags to the pieces. Yet, here I am, midnight, nearly 1 am; and I just couldn't wait to write this out.
I am afraid. I am lost and afraid, yet this feeling drives me more. I don't feel like an artist. Maybe it is because I never was formally trained, my skill has always been self taught mostly with guidance from other artists and my father. Maybe the lack of formal training is why I never pursued a career with my art? I have always regretted that and nearing 40, who knows if that will ever happen. This thought causes dread, depression and anxiety. I don't know if I should continue to draw, I feel lost. I am afraid to pursue my art even as a freelance, I don't take judgement well or criticism. Yet I know if I do not, I wont grow or gain more skill. I digress.
I write this because I post my art on various social medias and get nowhere. I don't know if I am doing this correctly. Should I network more? It's ok to ask for help. I see my posts get very few clicks, likes, etc. and others seem to explode with popularity. I have tried fan art, OCs, progress art, revisit old drawings. I haven't tried the DTIYS stuff, but I want to because it looks fun.
To those that read this, to the artists who feel invisible because you don't get the traffic you deserve, comment below so we see you. I will follow. It's ok to feel invisible, we all have to start somewhere. Even if you are near 40 like myself. There are so many artists out there who have been rejected or never found their style, medium etc. until later in life.
Carmen Herrera Rose Hilton Mark Rothko Phyllida Barlow Wassily Kandinsky Betty Tompkins Claude Monet Vincent Van Gogh Johannes Vermeer El Greco Paul Cezanne Georges-Pierre Seurat Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec Edouard Manet Paul Gauguin Alfred Sisley
Don't give up and don't draw for the likes, the fame or the notoriety. Draw because you want to create. Create because it is worth doing. In a world of destruction, chaos, hate; we need beauty. Things that inspire, drive us, give us awe and make us feel. Keep drawing. I see you, because I am you.
when it seems like everything is grey and dull - remember to let the colours in. The world is beautiful and so are you; happy holidays everyone!
Tired, ancient soul,
What secrets do those eyes hide
That you shelter so close to your chest
A chest that is bursting at the seams
With raw anguish,
But beautiful soul
Pain isn't meant to last
And neither is happiness
These fleeting emotions
Hold not tight to them
Because the only immortal here
Is You
~Me
Short stories #3
. 3 Above and Beyond
Trudging through the woods, I try to place the majority of my weight on my makeshift cane. Squinting my eyes, I try to keep sight of my path. The moon is of barely any help. If I had known it would be dark I would've snuck out a torch. Pulling my coat tighter around myself and wishing, not for the first time, that I should've worn something warmer above my hospital gown. I buried my nose in my scarf and yet, the crisp air still burned down my lungs. If my cigarettes don't kill me first, the cold certainly will. 'You shouldn't be here', the guilty part of my brain whispered. I squashed that thought down just like the leaves under my feet. Silly Linda, I scoff. She thought she could keep me in the ward by locking the door. Well look now, I jumped out the window. Well the pangs in my leg are almost making me regret. Almost. Oh whatever. To hell with Linda and her false pretenses. She can act sweet and coy all she likes but I know she wants me dead. Not more than I do but it is a mutual sentiment that is reciprocated. She's far too young anyway. A bit naive and very gullible. Very overconfident too but she is under the assumption that she's being 'smart' and 'sharp' and that an old, miserable midget like me won't be able to see right through her. An absolute fool. I despise it here.
I hobble my way to my usual spot, a clearing somewhere in the middle of the woods. The crescent moon stares down at me, as if judging. Sitting down on a tree stump while catching my breath, I pull out a pack of cigarettes that Linda missed and a lighter from my coat pocket. A cold draft rushed and rustled the trees and I held my coat tighter, shivering badly. With numb hands I light a cigarette and hold the lighter close, the tiny flame giving me a semblance of warmth. Sigh. I wouldn't want the fluid to run out. I pocketed it, closed my eyes and enjoyed my cigarette. Deep inhale and then exhale. Inhale and exhale. Finally, some peace and quiet….
…. Which did not last longer than twenty minutes. A sharp, whip like crack sobered me up and I opened my eyes to a terrifying sight. A creature with four faces, more than a hundred wings, taller than the trees, so huge that I can't distinguish the sky from its body. The moon is nowhere in sight. His whole body consists of uncountable eyes and tongues. What on God's green earth is this!? I can't move. Why am I not moving? Its hellish eyes stared me down. The cigarette I was holding had long fallen. I am a stone, glued to one place. I can't tear my eyes off this- this creature. All too soon, it descends and shifts into a shape more recognizable. A man. Dressed in a pure white robe, inky hair curled in every direction, skin the color of rich soil and piercing charcoal eyes, this man would stand out among any crowd. I must be hallucinating. Are cigarettes supposed to make you hallucinate?
"What kind of alien are you?" I asked in a quivering voice.
The man blinked. Then blinked again. Then stared at me long enough to make me wish I hadn't spoken.
"What kind do you think I am?" he smoothly replies, evading my question.
"A shape-shifting one."
He folds his hands neatly behind his back and doesn't reply.
"And who would you introduce yourself as?" he asks. I have a distinct feeling that he's humouring me. Like a cat who caught a canary.
"I, well, I-uhm-I fancy myself a student." I stuttered out. He doesn't need to know where I am from.
"A student of?"
"Life."
The alien smirked. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us, uncomfortable for me atleast. I feel weaker. Sweat beads at my eyebrows. This alien's presence has a weight that is taking a toll on me.
With nothing to do, I whip out another cigarette. I finished smoking it. Then I pull out a second, then a third, then a fourth.
"How long have you been smoking?" the alien asks suddenly.
"A few decades." I say, lighting another cigarette. A hush falls again.
"How do you speak our language?" I inquired, anything to keep the oppressive silence at bay.
"I've been here before."
"Oh?" I ask, hoping for an elaboration.
"Yes."
None came.
"What is it like?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Your planet. What is it like?"
"It is a human's dream come true. You can have whatever your heart desires. Food, clothing, land, companions. It is eternal peace-"
"Sounds like heaven." I interrupted.
The alien's lips quirked.
"Something of that sort. It can be very beautiful or very terrible depending on the person."
"Why so?"
"Would you wish for good things to happen to evil people?"
"No. Not at all."
"My point exactly."
"What is evil anyway? Is evil caused by a difficult life?You know, I've always wondered."
The alien calmly looks back at me.
"Have you had a sorrowful life?" he asks, a curious gleam in his eyes.
"Sorrowful?" I scoff. "I can barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. A saying goes 'Let a man walk the halls of sorrow. Whatever comes out, can it be called a man anymore?' " I asked.
"Sorrow is either growth or wasted potential if you have not learned. Power on the other hand, man cannot be trusted with power. It is too corrupting." the alien argues.
"I'll have to politely disagree. Power in itself is not corrupt. Power attracts those who are corruptible. Those who took the wrong lessons from their sorrows."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"You have become a cynic only because you felt your life was difficult. Your cigarette is proof enough. It kills you, yet, you stick to it. Doesn't that make you just like them?"
"You are not a human. You don't, and maybe, will never, understand the delicate intricacy of addiction. I am not defending myself. I am ashamed but leaving it is no easy task."
The alien hummed," If you believe so. You are quite a melancholic person." he says, matter of fact.
"So I've been told." I smiled self deprecatingly, "Look at me, debating about ideologies with an alien."
The alien smirked, as if he was in on a joke I wasn't. Strange.
I cleared my throat. It felt itchy. Must've been the cigarettes.
"Anyway,how does your planet deal with 'evil' people."
"You need not worry your head over it. Our, ah, justice system is very fair."
"Oh. Where is it located? Your planet that is."
"Not here. It is somewhere above all the galaxies."
That most certainly piqued my interest. I have wished for death on my worst days but on my best days, I've always been a curious bug, too curious for my own good. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Why are you here?" I finally cave in to my curiosity.
The alien side eyes me and replies, "I'm here to take one person home with me. Forever."
A thrill raced up my spine and anticipation settled in my bones. I licked my frozen, chapped lips. Perhaps I am being selfish. I spent my entire life looking for an escape, an escape from everything, my depression, my poverty, my disease, that hospital and its disinfectant smelling wards, Linda, this wretched world. That is an artist's curse. Escapism, they say, is an art too and I am anything but unacquainted to art. I always wondered about what was beyond, a place where no man had stepped. The golden threads of time, weaved into the fine fabric of the universe, permitted this opportunity to occur in front of me. I will take it even if my hands bleed.
I have no family that left, nobody who loves me. I'm bitter and alone. I deserve to be selfish for once in my life. To take a big leap, a risk. Yes, I will.
"Take me with you." I begged. "Please."
"Why should I?" the alien replied, staring right in my soul.
"You came for me. I know. If you didn't you wouldn't have landed here." I say, hopefully.
"And if I say that is false? What else would you offer?“
"I can offer you beauty and art. I can create for you."
"We have many of those."
"There will ever only be one like me. Just like there is only one artist like them. Themselves only."
Silence enveloped us again while rejection stung my chest again.
"Allow me to prove myself." I plead.
The alien looked at me, questioning.
"Look in my mind, see all that there is." I say determinedly. And I let him in my mind, let him see the world through my eyes and feel what I felt. I let him see my arts, my music, my poetry, my paintings that I crafted lovingly with my aged hands. I let him see what a human sees, something I know that he had never witnessed. Then I revealed my sorrows. Hopefully humanity would appeal to it.
With a pull he left my head. My eyes burned and I felt a blood vessel burst. I dry heaved on the dead ground but the nausea still lingered. I am glad I was seated or my knees would've buckled and I would've been an undignified heap on the floor. All the while the alien just stared and stared. I am getting sick of his staring too.
Once again, I broke the silence.
"I will paint your skies," I continue, hesitantly, "and your buildings and walls. I will write for the children and even for the old. Just please, take me. I'm exhausted ."
My eyes burned again, unshed tears waiting for release. I avert my eyes and let out a sigh. I feel heavy and my shoulders slump. Unexplainable exhaustion overcomes me and my temperature keeps rising, beads of sweat rolling down my face.
"If," he began,then stopped. It was the first time in our entire conversation that I saw him hesitate.
"If," he continued, "if I were to ask you to scream your wish at me, what would you fear more; your echo or my answer? “
"My echo", I reply instantaneously.
"Why?"
"Because it would mean you have declined."
"Hmm. Recite a poem for me."
I gave a shaky, hopeful smiled and offered him my words:
My river by the oak tree
has turned molten gold again,
as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.
The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles
While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,
When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,
Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,
While I sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,
Under the wrinkled, silver moon.
Silence hugged us again while the impact of my weakened voice lingered in the air.
"Do you believe in other lives? Aliens and such?" he questioned.
"Yes I do, I mean you are here so that confirms it too."
"You are a funny one. No one has ever mistaken me for an alien." it grinned, crooked, as if a gesture it wasn't familiar with.
My body went cold and tremors shook it to its feeble core, my breath coming out in shallow pants. My eyes shut down of their own accord. The entity then spoke with a voice that might have held the weight of a thousand suns,
"Beyond the stars we go."
I don't feel so good today.
I feel a strange, ancient ache in my soul. An aged feel to my rigid bones that once held the weight of the earth and the sky. Now they wish to rest, to turn to dust. They have endured enough weathering. I feel nostalgic for a life I have never lived, for a life I wish I lived. I suppose I do understand this humane desire. The soul was never meant to stay on the earth. It was meant to rise. And here, now, it is bound to, shackled to this body and inadvertently, to this world,held taut by the unyielding chains of gravity. I yearn for the day I return home. Up there.
I don't feel so good today and that's fine.
~Me
Depression may be invisible, but your absence is not.
A Little Too Late. Right? (1/?)
Right??
Yes, I had to re-upload this due to internet and spelling errors. I hope you guys enjoy it, but a warning; it’s sad. I also gave it a new title.
If you have recently experienced self-destructive thoughts, or have hurt yourself, please reachout to someone. we all love you, I love you, your friends and family love you, so please don’t hurt or think badly about yourself! If you think you have no one to talk too, then please come to me. I’ll drop whatever I’m doing to help you/get you the help you need. You’re not a burden, and never will be. No matter your age, gender, sexuality, race, etc, you are loved, even if you don’t believe it. so please; reach out to someone, or reach out to me, and I promise, you’ll feel better.
Warnings: Self-Harm Mention, Self-Destructive Behavior, Heavy Angst, Pissed Off Jetstorm, Depressed Jetfire, Forest Fires, and Burnt Bodies (Kinda)
Note: Emergency requests are now open. If you need something written for mental health, those will be the first ones to get done before any other requests.
Molten ash.
It was all that Jetfire could see through the hazed smoke, faint crackling filling his audio receptors. Where was he? Who was he? What happened? Questions threw themselves inside his pounding processors as he winced sharply. He made no move to get up, not knowing the damage his body had taken. He exhaled roughly, his chest aflame from the surrounding heat. He was going to die here. And…he was ok with that. He hated that he was ok with that, knowing he should be strong as a member of the Elite Guard but, where were they? He saw no sign of them. He didn’t blame them, they probably wanted this. He wasn’t much help, he only caused destruction. What kind of a useful weapon is fire anyway?? Did he cause this? Did he cause his own death? A staticked chuckle pushed itself past his burnt metal lips. He deserved this didn’t he? Jetstorm didn’t need him, he was always great on his own; he didn’t need him. Jetfire’s flickering optics looked around him. He was surrounded by wild flames but past that, he could see trees, or… what was left of them. Tall burnt, shriveled sticks laid where lush green trees used to stand. He laid on a ground of wet mud, as the flames around him melted any remaining snow in the area. His optics dulled. So…he did do this. He could feel coolant try to fall from his wet optics but it would simply evaporate. The flames seemed to rise, knowing his emotions and feelings; after all, he did make them; and they crept closer to his frame. “I”. His voice couldn’t seem to work, making him frown. “I be sorry”. He pushed through the pain of his burning throat, even though it was begging to not be used, begging for recovery. “I be sorry brother”. His Russian accent almost seemed to melt away, taking his voice box with it. The pain was unbearable, but shouldn’t he be used to it? After all the things he had done to himself, why did this hurt the most? His chest tightened around his spark, almost feeling as though it began crushing it. He groaned. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. But, he knew he deserved it. Didn’t he? He had to, right? It didn’t matter. He was going to finally die, and nothing could stop that. He looked at himself, using all the strengthen left to lift his head up. Both of his legs had burnt cabling jetting out of them, and sparks flying. His hands where as dark as soot, creating black streaks on his body and the surrounding ground around him. All white on his beautiful frame was now a dark, murky, deep grey. And his Autobot insignia. It was melted, fused to his chest plate. On the ground around him was bright pink Energon, some of it even boiling. He was a fucking mess. “I was so sure”. He smiled at the hazy sky before shutting his eyes for the last time.
His body shook, tears dripping out of his bright blue optics. Jazz held him close, stroking his back comfortingly while glancing at Sentinal Prime, who was looking down; grief lacing his faceplate. “I-“. The Prime hesitated. “I don’t know what we can do”. The crying mech glanced furiously at him, his teeth moving into a snarl. “What?! What you mean you don’t know what we can do?!” Jetstorm clawed at his helm, placing scratches in it. “We don’t know where he went. He was out of control”! The prime persuaded the young bot, knowing anything else he could say wound make him snap. “Brother is out there”! Jetstorm choked oh his dripping tears as Jazz patting his back slightly to help him. Sentinal Prime looked at his cremate, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. “Jetstorm I-”. The furious blue mech interrupted him. “Please…Don’t tell me anything”. His voice was now much calmer as he sobbed openly. “I will go find Jetfire, With or without your help”. He pushed himself away from Jazz and ran out of the ship before transforming quickly and jetting off, as fast as he could possibly go. The air was cold, yes, but he couldn’t give two flying shits. He needed Jetfire. He needed his twin. Jetstorm knew that he would never forgive himself if he allowed Jetfire to offline himself. But…what if he was too late? Despite being in jet mode, coolant still fell from his optics. He sped up, not caring about any of the sleeping humans below. He needed to find his twin. He blasted through the city, advancing to the full forest past Lake Erie. He didn’t know how far he traveled, but it felt like it took him years just to leave the city. Jetstorm’s thoughts where full of hatred. All words himself. He could have been there. He SHOULD have been there. But he wasn’t. His brother was out there; in the freezing frost; hurt and full of self-hatred. He needed his brother. And his brother needed him.
The flight was long, too long before Jetstorm could see smoke in the distance, causing his to go at full blast. Before he knew it, a puff of smoke became hungry flames, reaching high into the air. He transformers quickly, hitting the earth hard before looking around at the hissing inferno. His breaths where frantic. This had to be his doing. It HAD to! Coolant stained his cheek as he moved hand up, before sending a powerful blast of a water cyclone at the flames, extinguishing a few of them. He did this a few times, checking every spot he could. He wouldn’t give up, but there was no sign of his beloved brother. That was, until he stepping something. He slowly looked down and lifted his foot. He let out a chocked sob as pink Energon coated his ped. He set is foot down, and looked around ferociously until his eyes fell on a sigh that he wished he never saw. Jetfire laid on the muddy ground, none of his colors where even recognizable as he was covered in scorched soot. Jetstorm sprinted to his brother and slid on his knees to the burnt frame. “B-brother”? His voice was barely above a whisper as he went to go touch him, but froze, hands above his twin’s chest, feeling the heat radiating off of his frame. “Poor b-brother”. His sobs returned as he laid his helm on his twin’s chest, and sobbed into it. He was too late. He had failed himself but most importantly, he had failed Jetfire. “Brother, I am of the sorry”! He sobbed and sobbed, till he couldn’t sob anymore. He kept his helm on his brother and heaved a quivered sigh as loose tears washed away a bit of soot on Jetfire’s frame. His brother was gone. Gone forever.
Ba-dum
“W-what”?
Ba-dum
Jetstorm froze before placing his audio fin over the center of his brother’s chest.
Ba-dum
Was it?
Ba-dum
It was!
A spark beat filled his ears, causing him to burst into tears again, but not from sadness. Oh no, not from sadness at all. Jetstorm pulled his brother’s limp body into his arms and sobbed. He was alive. Jetfire was alive. “T-thank t-the All S-Spark”! The fire that used to surround the twins had died down, now only weak little flames, being extinguished quickly by the snow that began to fall. He scooped his brother up gently in his arms and used one hand to comm Sentinal. Moments later, a swirl of blue and green appeared, and Jetstorm heaved a sigh. “Brother, we be heading home”.
I think I could write a song called “I’m Depressed” and my parents would just be like “wow you’re so creative :)”