As reality sets in, I am overcome by the harsh truth. Happiness is a delusion. It is a dream invented by false feelings of joy that are quickly taken away. Some people are fortunate enough to keep this joy longer than others. Like me I guess. Anytime I get any joy it is quickly extinguished and stomped out. False hope is what I call it. Just when you think things are going well for you, for once, something happens to remind you that you are not special. You didn't really think things would work out for you, did you? Only fools believe in happy endings...
But somehow even though I know this I still continue to be a fool who has false hope. Why? Nothing ever works out for me and just when I start getting happy, someone has to say something or do something and BOOM, down I go. Back to the bottom where I belong. What is the key to happiness that I am somehow missing? Even as I write this I am trying to sound like some misunderstood poet when in reality all I am is a depressed adolescent. I am a 16 yr old who is already given up the hope of ever being truly happy. I really just don't think it's possible for me. I am so used to faking joy that I can't even remember the last time I was genuinely happy with my life.
God that's so sad. My life has been a series of sad events with a few flatlines in between, just waiting for it to drop again. My friends think I'm this totally zen, go with the flow, nice person. I'm really not tho. The zen they think is there is just me being trapped in all the thoughts going through my head. I am literally dying on the inside and no one realizes I am just a damaged piece of something much bigger than myself. Maybe I just wasn't meant to be a part of this puzzle. Maybe that's why I'm so broken and alone. I don't fit. Maybe someday I will be a part of something but for now I am just useless..
Note: I wrote this two years ago and as much as some of it makes me cringe, it also hits me that at some point in my life I felt this way and that is heartbreaking to me. To be that young and already have no hope for myself. But in that sense I think it was important to make this the beginning for whatever this turns out to be. Maybe people will relate and as these progress, you (and I) can see the change in attitude over time and idk. Maybe it will mean something...
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Non-FictionI started this book with the intention to document my life in a series of poems and journal entries in hopes of giving my experiences some kind of new meaning. Either to myself or to whoever would read, but as time went on I found myself with less a...
