People always talk about how they have to â€˜put on a fake smileâ€™ and fool everyone, but itâ€™s so hard to do that. I canâ€™t. How can you smile when the crushing weight of depression is burying you? Most of the time Iâ€™m lost in my thoughts; theyâ€™re drowning me. Iâ€™m in my own little world of self-hate and despair. I look out the window and I can see the beauty, but I canâ€™t feel it. The snow is flurrying right now, little trinkets of white raining down on the blanket of glistening snow that already fell. The trees are dead and bare, stripped of their leaves and left to endure the harsh weather without protection. The sky is gray. Dismal. Another person, someone whoâ€™s thought werenâ€™t contorted by the monstesr inside them, they would see beauty when they looked out that window. They would see something to play in, something to catch on their tongue. I see masses of sad trees and a hopeless sky, raining down silky white tears.