...To the person who's reading this. I have some words to say.
People say, it's easy to be me...
People call me something...
But what crosses my mind are never those things...
I'm not the optimistic type of person.
I'm the exact opposite of that.
I've hidden for so long.
I act as if I'm smilling.
But honestly, I feel like dying.
Dying...because of how much pain I've already done.
Because of how much pain that I've sucked up.
Because of how much tears I've cried.
Because of how many mistakes I've made, that ended up bad.
Because of how an ignorant fool I am.
Because of how evil I am.
Because of how I am as a disgrace to this family.
A disgrace so big, that I am considered that untrustworthy being.
I am not worthy anymore. I am not worthy of anyone.
I am worthless. A worthless putrid being.
A pretender, a fool, a hypocrite, an immature bastard.
Those words still ring into my mind.
I don't want to prove them wrong.
Because sadly, it's the truth.
I am a person who hates change.
And personally, I've never changed ever since.
I've never accepted myself.
I've never loved myself.
I feel so different and I feel like an outcast.
As if I don't even belong here...
I wanted a home...
But home is home...and my home, for me, I just can't describe it.
Nor do I want to even describe.
I can even say at time in my life, that I am the worst human being.
I am all alone.
And sometimes. I can feel the suicidal thoughts rush into my mind.
What if I never existed?
What if I die?
Would that solve the problem?
Would things become better when I'm gone?
Would things become smooth without me interrupting it?
If I die, do they even care about me?
I am the blackest sheep.
The young, and the terrible.
The retarded, the insolent one.
The fool who made mistakes become big or bigger.
The naive child whom trouble always target at.
I've always been.
Friends...Family...they keep saying that they're there for me...
But honestly...nobody came.
I'm always alone.
Even for the people whom I cherish the most...
When were they ever there when i needed them?
The time where I cried, the time where I was hurt
The time where I snapped, and the time where i felt insane that I just don't know what to do anymore.
I'm sick of myself.
For being this way.
I hate it.
I hate myself.
I don't love myself...
A miracle would happen.
But I know. People would always care.
When it's too late.
I am sick of my existance.
I am sick because of how people see me, especially the people who I love.
They see me as a criminal, a fool, a lunatic and a child.
I've tried to change for the better...
But people don't notice it anymore.
They don't know what I'm going through.
People could just judge right away.
I smile, I laugh, I jump with joy.
Everything is fake.
Happiness is a lie.
For me, darkness is where I belong.
I belong to a place where nobody would even remember me...
A place where I am alone, forever.
No love, no happiness...
The glow only shines for a moment, and then it goes back to it.
I am done.
If only I know what happens....
I'd be glad to know.
Only one way to find out.
See you on the other side.