traces of a pushpin

chapter one

dead twigs, ceiling boards and loose feathers

There is a weird sense of peace within walking through the woods alone. He realised that when he finally tried it for himself. Before, he had spent his time sitting inside his room, thinking depressive thoughts as always, but once he actually started to go outside, he felt like he could breathe in deeper, like his lungs suddenly had more capacity. It was probably just the temperature of the air he sucked in, just a trick that his mind played on him, or something psychological- but it made him feel a little single minded. Throughout all of his teen years his family had told him that he would feel better if he just went outside, either to socialize or to take walks, but he always refused. Hearing so many people tell him to do it, there had been that voice inside of him that rebelled. He wasn’t like everyone. There was nothing in this world that could help making him feel better, that he had been sure of. Discovering that he had been wrong and they had been right, that stung. It was the most basic advice someone gave you when you tried to explain how empty you felt inside all the time. Exactly the advice someone would give you, who never went through what you are going through. How could they have been so right, if they couldn’t begin to comprehend what was going on inside of him? Either he wasn’t as complicated a creature as he had believed to be, or they understood him better than he had thought. Maybe, just maybe, depression wasn’t something that made him special. Maybe it was just another human emotion that everyone could relate to, if they were at least a little empathetic. Maybe the world wasn’t as black and white as he had always thought it to be. But no matter if gray tones existed in this