the taste of your mental disorders

Han Jisung is twenty-eight years old, he hates himself, his life and peace. He had suicide attempts and narcotic dependence. He blames all his parents that all childhood was abused by alcohol and beat it. He ran out of the house a couple of times, and after that, he could have walked in the hospital. His hand had a heavy.  His childhood passed in a gray forest of a sleeping area with children, whose fates were entangled in one huge black knot of endless suffering. In this yard, Han had two friends - Geonjin and Seungmin, they were all the same age. Running from the house in the cold morning city, they walked until the night, not wanting to return there. To the place where endlessly stinks with alcohol drinks and dirty so much that there was no difference where to sleep on the floor or on the bed. Jisung followed a little more about the order in his room, but about the rest of the square, it was easier to say nothing.  Friends he lost too early. Sonmin did not want to go to the store for the next bottle. And his mother threw an eight-year-old boy in the window with the words: "Then shelter!". But he could not crawl. His skull split on the asphalt. It was the eighth floor. An adult will not survive if he falls from such a height, and the child especially.   Geonjin and Jisung cried for a long time. They hugged each other sobbing himself, having learned that their friend is no more. They did not understand this yet, but Gisung will forever remember this cold and empty face of his cheerful friend. Mother did not participate in the funeral of the son, she was under investigation. The only thing she did is give money, but this amount was negligible. Therefore, buried neighbors. Good grandparents, who often fed guys and in general, all could have helped.  After nine years, Geonjin died. He opened his veins. And in the note, trembling handwriting, wrote:  "... Forgive me, Jisung, I can no longer live like that. I promised you that we will handle and grow old and good people. But he raped me again. Sorry, Han.., please. Of us, only you remained. Be happy. Grow an adult and a good man, please. Sorry, goodbye. Geonjin. "  Geonjin’s stepfather often resorted to sexual violence. For the first time it happened when Geonjin was six years old. And from the moment he constantly endured, but to seventeen years the strength was dried. Hatred for yourself, what adults have made, was so strong that it is simply impossible to cope with it. Therefore, he did not work. He stopped fighting and look for meaning in that he would never exist.  Then Han stopped hopefully and wait for something. He put life on a self-shot and fearing to become such as his parents; Unfortunately, became. He began to indulge with narcotic substances. At first it was something light. Tranquilizer - Penazepam, Ksanaks. And then he tried heroin. But not himself, his father helped him. Two injections, but threw. Dependence develops immediately after the first injection, but the disease has four stages. Han came only to the second. And then he dreamed of Geonjin and adult sonmin. They were so beautiful and happy. Jisung cried looking at them, wanted to run up, but the loud voice of Geonjin stopped him.  - Where are you running, Jisung?  - I'll run to you, guys. Geonjin, Seungmin, how glad to see you!  -End all this, you're still young, you have to live, you promised. - But I live.  - You will soon die if you do not stop.  And after that, Han woke up.  And he threw. How many sufferings he moved - not to describe. He again had hope that he could dig up from this shit. A year later, he finishes school and he must cope!  But he could not. Han revealed in the bathroom with words: "I am weak." But the attempt was unsuccessful. A neighbor came to admit Jisung and found it. He lay in a psychiatric hospital for three months and came out with a certificate that absolutely healthy. But it turns out to lie so easily. Some adults themselves are not fully healthy, once believed in his words.  Now Jisung is  twenty-eight years. His hands have long been like a dirty, torn canvas, on which red and brown paints were mixed. In some places, the scars are so big that no tattoo will hide them. He works as a teacher of foreign literature at the university and does not know what he is here. Every day he dies. Wanders in an infinite emptiness; In an infinite nothing. His life has long made sense, he did not cope with the task of his childhood. Yes, he grown. But a disgusting person who every time making absolutely any action thinks: "I want to die." He lost the war, he lost his life. And this is his fate.                                          ◎◎◎  Today, the twelfth of October is two thousand and nineteenth years. Jisung again woke up in a cold apartment. Under the blanket there is still a small amount of heat and I did not want to get out. But you need to go to work. Therefore, again with a head plunge into an endless disgust to the whole living, it gets up from the bed and steps on the ice floor. Occasionally raising her legs a little higher, fearing to step on it. It comes to the kitchen, pours a cup of water, drinks, washed and puts on the same clothes in which it was yesterday.  How he was hired, he does not know. "Just lucky," every time it flashed in his head. Somewhere I should just take a luck.  Black oversized shirt and classic pants. Everything was perfect. The clothes specifically chose such that nothing could be seen. Excessive questions from the dean or gossip students did not want to hear.  In his one of the many groups there is a student. His name is Lee Minho. The guinee is twenty-one and he does not have the soul in his teacher of foreign literature. Little is God, but he thinks only Han thinks. Lee Minho constantly take care of him. Buys coffee, talking. For Jisung, it is too unusual. Pure due to responsibility and debt, he supports the dialogue with him and once bought eclars, so as not to feel the feeling of guilt for the fact that Minho constantly brings him anything.  Jison does not know absolutely nothing about him. The only thing is that his name is Lee Minho, he is twenty-one and he loves Bulgakov. That's all.    So the story will begin about two sick people, which was the world for each other.     But having lost faith in the world - lost themselves.  "It's raining heavily today!"  said one poet and drowned himself in it. Unable to cope with sadness and resentment,  throwing happiness into the distance,  he jumped with all his strength  and began to sink.  Regretting the past. He took pity on people, dreams and goals. And in the blue depths he felt sorry for himself  that he could not cope,  because he had abandoned everything!   He dreamed of flying,  but he only learned to sink...  And in the morning they found that poet,  he did not swim in the Rain,  he swam in himself.   In their experiences, resentment,  love and hate. And drowned from them, and not at all in the rain.   And leaving the body forever,  he forgave himself forever, forgave people, dreams and goals.   He also forgave the World that he loved so much.     "Poet's Dream" Cypress Leaves