I come to realize how fake of a human being i actually am. I hide my depression, pretending to be happy. I think I’m at a point where money couldn’t make me happy, not because i don’t have any, but because money can’t solve my problems. I ust find ways to cope and take my problems head on. I always try strengthen my weaknesses. If i’m bad at something, I try making myself better at it which is a good thing because practice makes perfect. I came to a point in life, where words don’t hurt anymore. I have reached my lowest low, which means any word said can’t bother me. I have been mentally abused my whole life and it just seems to never stop. I try to remain positive, but there’s hardly anything positive in my life. Its hard to find the good when your life has been completely shit. I try making better, because of that corny ass saying “Life is what you make it” or “Master of My Fate” “Captain of My Soul”. Ask the young kid murdered by a drunk driver or the completely broken person if life is fair or the druggie that resorted to drugs to kill their memories or numb their pain. Nobody wants this. But yet, we all end up there some way or some how. you’re strong for holding on. Everyday is a fight. Let it be a well fought battle.
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Sometimes I feel like dead is a present from God for us. After all, anyone of us will come to that point. Sooner or later. And I think the reason why we become “fake people” is because that’s what the world, the sociaty expect to hear from us. “I am fine”, “It’s great, thank you”. Something like that. If you are suffering, at the first time, people will spend time on you. But then they are tired of us. They think that we did nothing to change our situation. They don’t know how much I try everyday to keep myself alive. So better, I show a fake smile and tell a lie. I am so tired. Now I just want silence.