I live in a black and white world, were I don't get a choice. I'm not good at communicating with words, letters jumble up in my throat and what comes out of my mouth has nothing to do with what's going on in my brain. I can't keep relationships as I'm no good at being supportive, I fail to even understand sadness within other people, I can't see gray, it's always been black or white. This or that. But what I hate the most is that I can see right through lies, the fact that I can tell they don't mean something hurts and it doesn't matter how much it happens because I'm never ready. Being friends with others has always been out of my reach, because no matter how many times I've wanted to believe "I'm here for you" it just simply becomes nothing but jumbled letters again. I feel sick from my head to my stomach, and every time I have to deal with the pain of knowing I simply don't matter I'm back to this disgusting keyboard were I create characters to help my insecurities so I can drown in experiences that I know will never come true. This keyboard is all I have, it's where I can pour out without it pitying me, accusing me or simply lie to me. I owe nothing to this miserable world and I hope someday when I die this jumbled words won't hurt anyone else, that no one will be this sick inside.
My insecurities can't be cured with a blade or pills; self-disgust is something that'll be by my side till the day I die.
