But I still didn't find an answer. Still...
It makes me a little bit sad, when I think about how I used to be.
Why am I an outsider?
It sounds like a simple question, no?
An answer isn't as easy as I thought it would be.
I tried to answer myself with things like: 'That's just how things are now, Emil.' or 'Just because you are, Emil.'
But I am not satisfied with that answer. There must be really a reason, why did I change so much. It can't be only a simple 'Just because'.
Because if it were, I wouldn't be moody, careless and rude. That's what many people said to me. The rest of people think that I am. Or at least, once in their life's they thought about my personality like that.
Don't try to lie to me. Everyone thought about me being like that. Or still thinks.
I try to act like I don't care what others think about me... But it seriously hurts me inside...
When others say my country is bad, I try my best not to look at them. Because they would probably see my face with a sad expression...
Let's just say I am not very happy about what most people or other nations say about me.
...but I guess I can still find someone who doesn't say and isn't going to say such thing.
Like my family.
Or my friends... Even though I don't have that many of them.
I must say that I have changed a lot since my childhood... And... I didn't like it. I still don't.
Some people say that there is always something positive in bad things. But I absolutely don't see even a little positivity in my change. Not at all.
If someone will ever tell me they see something positive in it, I would probably just shake my head. Because I will never understand what they said.
I guess I should find some good traits I have. But I still can't find any. I wonder why is that..? Maybe I am too modest at myself. Maybe I am just telling the truth. Who knows?
But... When I think about it... I am still who I am. And no one will change that. Maybe there is this child self of me somewhere deep inside.
Sometimes I just need a reason to be like my child self.
And that isn't very often.
~Sincerely, Emil Steilsson, the country of fire and ice.
VOUS LISEZ
Emil's Journal
AléatoireW͙A͙R͙N͙I͙N͙G͙. P͙l͙e͙a͙s͙e͙ t͙o͙l͙e͙r͙a͙t͙e͙ t͙h͙e͙ f͙a͙c͙t͙ t͙h͙a͙t͙ I͙'v͙e͙ s͙t͙a͙r͙t͙e͙d͙ t͙o͙ w͙r͙i͙t͙e͙ t͙h͙i͙s͙ t͙h͙i͙n͙g͙ w͙h͙e͙n͙ I͙ k͙n͙e͙w͙ a͙ l͙i͙t͙t͙l͙e͙ t͙o͙ n͙o͙t͙h͙i͙n͙g͙ a͙b͙o͙u͙t͙ I͙c͙e͙l͙a͙n͙d͙. I͙t͙'s͙ c͙r͙i͙n͙g͙y͙ a͙s͙ h͙e͙c͙k͙...
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