Chapter 1
In this dim-lit room, I feel no peace, yet no anger. I stay steady in between miserable and superior, any step across where I am now could risk everything.
Everything feels numb. I can feel and not feel my body. How many cries did it take for me to get where I am now?
Countless.
And yet, no cry will ever be loud enough for them to hear clearly. Do I not cry loud enough? They did tell me to lessen my tears, it makes me an awful person.
I've always been an awful person, they say. They say I'm filled with hatred, as if the only way I can let out my emotions is through violence.
What can I do if they're right?
I can't go a day without hurting anyone, be it mental or physical. They say it's wrong, so does it make it right for me to hurt myself instead?
It's what I lived by these past months.
Do I have too less freedom, or do I have too much freedom? A simple answer that can be changed depended on who I'm with. A cycle I've longed to break.
But I've done nothing but run in circles. When I think I'm good at what I do, I act high and mighty. Then there's always someone to overtake.
Which is my cue to give up on everything I've done.
Blabbing about how good I am when it came to things I thought I was good at, did not help in the slightest. My ego was never backed up with skill.
And every time I've tried to do something I want to do, it always weakens me to think that there will always be someone to criticize me no matter how I do.
So I stop.
I've long accepted I'm good at nothing by now. Well, I'm never great, I just know how. And no matter how highly that sounds, it's never the best when it comes to compete.
When will I ever excel in things I always had passion in? When will I have the talent I've yearned for my whole life?
Why does everyone in this whole fucking world have something they're good at, and whenever I try to be good at something I'm passionate about, everything and everyone goes blank?
WHEN WILL I GROW OUT OF THIS SHITSHOW PERSONA AND LIVE MY LIFE LIKE A LIFE I WOULD ACTUALLY BE PROUD OF REGARDLESS OF WHO HEARS??
why do they have space to breathe, and i've broke every bone staying in this cramped body?
