How ironic. You can’t be depressed or perfect, that’s not socially accepted, ever. So here I am, smiling and laughing for the good, faking, so they wont know. But I really haven’t smile for days, not letting a true laugh out. I haven’t even cried, for a couple of months now. My own feelings are killing me. I’ve stopped self injuring myself, ever since I stopped crying. But now, I’m falling, trembling as I walk, dying everyday a little more, from sadness and pain. I’m empty myself, not having any emotions at all, just faking. My mask is slowly falling appart, slowly letting my emptiness show. But I wont try, hopefully not, I wont let others feel satisfied with my death. No matter how much it hurts; I rather been hurt like this, until it hurts to walk. And here I am, telling a bunch of strangers, some called friends, being realistic with myself and them, hoping for been understood. Yes I’m young, many say that there’s so much along to learn in life, but others who trully know me say that I know too much for my age, not that I really care what others say. My perfect fake life: Good looking, great grades, hanging with everyone, spoiled with things I don’t even want. People trusting you so you can advice them to a problem, but you can’t do the same, because it’s too much for others. Now, my real life: Not real emotions, no happiness, just a faker, too realistic to even dream about been happy, with parents who would barely listen to her when speaking. I’ve never thought of them as my parents neither their responsibility. I’m sick, but they or many people called my “friends”. But I’ll try my best to keep going with my mask, faking my best, till no one notices.