You want to know why I want to have my earphones in my ears all the time? Because I don't like listening to the world, any of it. Tears burn, sobs stab into my chest. The word and the world is so confusing. I hate it. God, if you want to, you can kill me. I don't think I'd mind, just make sure my little sister, Lizanya, and Leah will be okay. I'm sick and tired of it. I just wanted to talk to them, for once. To give them an idea of what goes through my head. To let them know what I think, to let them know how I feel. I should have never done that, that was the stupidest thing I've ever wanted, the stupidest thing I've ever done. You want to know why I'm afraid to speak my mind? Would you like to know why I never put in my opinion unless I absolutely have to? And, if ever I get the opportunity to express how I feel, through words, my voice begins to become unsteady, along with my entire being, and I'm fighting back tears?
It's because once I finally muster up whatever courage I have to finally spit it out, what every person fears happens to me, I get shot down, by the people whom I consider to be very dear to me. I thought these people were supposed to be there for me, I thought they were supposed to help me, but they don't even listen to me. God, I'm growing weary, and I'm not sure if I can handle this, no. I know that I can't handle this. I just wanted to be heard. Is this why I feel so close to music and art? Is this why I'm so twisted up? Because I can never find a way to be expressive through oral words? I want to run away so bad, from everything. No one seems to truly understand the distress I feel, because I can't even express it. I know that may seem rather extreme and over dramatic, but it isn't to me. It's the truth. Why won't you listen? Why can't you ever take into consideration what I say? On the verge of my meltdown, all you can do is kick me? Why is that? Isn't it obvious? Isn't it apparent that I need help? Why can't you even let me live my life? I was just suggesting my thoughts. For once, I was wanting to share with them. I'm so scared. I hate it. I hate myself. Everything is my fault. I'm so stupid. Why did I ever dare to dream?