i try to be a resilient human being. i try my hardest to manage in an environment where i don't feel comfortable, while still keeping up this facade of happiness. i try and i try and i try, but for what?
nobody will love me for who i am.
nobody has loved me for who i am.
i am the sculpted image of perfection in my family's mind. they would hate for that sculpture to be tarnished and as a result i sustain this illusion, but i'm not fooling myself.
i'm not happy the way i am.
the only way i can become myself is after a bullet runs through my head.
and yet, i keep on living.
~ wrap
go back?