depraved love

Everyday, everywhere, something is being romanticised. It revolves around mental illness, to disorders, to personality tropes.

All things that are unhealthy, and should not be seen with rose-tinted shades.

“I really like this character, he’s so hot and he’s a psychopath, too!”

It’s weird, when pondering on the logistics of why people romanticise such outlandish stuff. What are they seeking, that makes them swim to the depths of the sea, rather than bobbing near the shore?

“She would kill for me! True love!”

Media has made it all apparent about the consumption of romanticised ideas and thoughts; in movies, shows, comics, cartoons.

There’s always somewhere an element of something that shouldn’t be.

Why do people feel the need to input it in their daily lives, to broadcast it to viewers who eagerly accept it as it is?

“Depressed people are so cute, always so edgy and sulky.”

Such adjectives shouldn’t be used to comment about things that are the opposite of what they are.

Illnesses aren’t sweet or cute, they can be vile in certain situations and can be ghastly in others. They’re the opposite of: ‘I feel a little sad so I’m depressed’ and more of: ‘I hate myself, I can not do anything right.’

These sensitive topics and subjects are being bared by people who view it on the surface level and plaster an ‘aww’ label on it.

They stuff it all in a box, consider it as something quirky or beautiful, and then ship it off to others who feel the same way.

Why? Why do that? There is no need for sugar-coated words when just the cold truth will do.

Romanticisation, in itself, is something that is arguably harmful.

It forces baseless conjectures on people and considers it a fact. Anxiety? Adorable.

It’s not; just like with any other illness or disorder, it’s terrible and can be severe in some cases.

Shattering those spectacles is the best idea, along with any misguided preconceptions.

The truth is now.