I fucking hate this shit. Everything. Why is everything make आप feel like आप want to curl up and fucking die! Why does everything that seems so perfect crumble into small pieces that are unfixable? How come the girl sitting across from आप is staring at आप with a look so harsh, आप can taste the disgust in your mouth? Is that how everyone feels around you? आप want to ask what the fuck her problem is, but of course like the good little एंजल आप are, आप keep your mouth shut, and as आप sit there taking her look आप सवाल everything. आप were always raised to be the bigger person, to be nice and friendly even when people don't return the favor, to achieve all and never fall.
Right?
And as आप enter life does everyone place their bets on if आप will succeed या fail? As आप age, through those terrible fucking years आप go through, everyone seems to have a चाकू at your throat waiting for आप to mess up so they can apply और pressure to the blade? So they can wait 'till आप mess up again and dig it deeper, and slowly through all your mistakes आप make, all the small mistakes आप make, the people holding the चाकू to your throat get the chance to slit it. And drop the weakest link, because once आप mess up, since everyone thought आप were perfect and expected आप to excel in every fucking piece of shit आप do, there is no need for you.
Right?
It seems like the whole world, seven fucking billion people on this small dying planet, is holding their breath watching as आप walk the tightrope of life. even you.
But what about the six billion, nine hundred ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, and nine hundred and ninety-nine other people? Are they all on tightropes, too? And if they are, those blasted bastards, do they have the support and cords that आप aren't aloud to have? Because आप have no imperfections, that's why आप aren't aloud. And when आप open your mouth to scream for help, because you're almost falling, they sew it up to keep it shut. No complaints must come from the world's perfect kid.
Right?
So along आप travel, maturing and aging, but those fucking people, that had a चाकू to your throat, now add one to your back. आप gain some फ्रेंड्स but they are those people, and as your trust for them grows the blade is slowly digging into your skin, आप can feel it too. But as the fucking good little angel आप are, आप keep your head high, and be a trooper though the tears burn scars into your heart. The trust that once was a lively flame is put out द्वारा treason, and is now nothing but a ember glowing in the ash. आप keep walking though, 'cause there is always light at the end of the tunnel, someone waiting for आप to stoke the little ember, care for it and add a little love, that will set it ablaze.
Right?
But what if that special one doesn't come? What do आप do? आप then grow up believing आप were never good enough for anyone; anything. How could anyone प्यार a freak like you? Someone that doesn't know how to fight and just takes the shit that is thrown at them? But आप were raised that way? आप were always taught to be loving and compassionate, and because every time आप did stand your ground and fight back the knives would cut आप down till आप were nothing.
Right?
So here आप are at the guillotine, there is no need for you. आप stood up for yourself, and people that do that can only have one fate: Have everyone against them and face their extermination. The breath of the everyone is let out in one exhale, all the money placed on the तालिका, टेबल for आप failing is awarded to the betters, and आप are going to fall like the rest of the freaks that don't fit in.
Right?
Wrong.
आप back away, and dive off the tightrope. Who wants to live a life like everyone else, when आप can live free. Who gives a fuck if everyone around आप spits in disgust, you're you.
So even if आप don't feel needed, even if आप aren't brand new, even if आप aren't the shiniest, या the strongest, the thickest, या the coolest. आप are still आप and even if आप are the weakest link, आप sit in the middle of the connection, and the chain you're on will break apart without you.
Right?
Right.
((Just feeling bad about myself today and felt like लेखन it out... I don't care if this get one view या none.. it just felt goof to get it out.))
Right?
And as आप enter life does everyone place their bets on if आप will succeed या fail? As आप age, through those terrible fucking years आप go through, everyone seems to have a चाकू at your throat waiting for आप to mess up so they can apply और pressure to the blade? So they can wait 'till आप mess up again and dig it deeper, and slowly through all your mistakes आप make, all the small mistakes आप make, the people holding the चाकू to your throat get the chance to slit it. And drop the weakest link, because once आप mess up, since everyone thought आप were perfect and expected आप to excel in every fucking piece of shit आप do, there is no need for you.
Right?
It seems like the whole world, seven fucking billion people on this small dying planet, is holding their breath watching as आप walk the tightrope of life. even you.
But what about the six billion, nine hundred ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, and nine hundred and ninety-nine other people? Are they all on tightropes, too? And if they are, those blasted bastards, do they have the support and cords that आप aren't aloud to have? Because आप have no imperfections, that's why आप aren't aloud. And when आप open your mouth to scream for help, because you're almost falling, they sew it up to keep it shut. No complaints must come from the world's perfect kid.
Right?
So along आप travel, maturing and aging, but those fucking people, that had a चाकू to your throat, now add one to your back. आप gain some फ्रेंड्स but they are those people, and as your trust for them grows the blade is slowly digging into your skin, आप can feel it too. But as the fucking good little angel आप are, आप keep your head high, and be a trooper though the tears burn scars into your heart. The trust that once was a lively flame is put out द्वारा treason, and is now nothing but a ember glowing in the ash. आप keep walking though, 'cause there is always light at the end of the tunnel, someone waiting for आप to stoke the little ember, care for it and add a little love, that will set it ablaze.
Right?
But what if that special one doesn't come? What do आप do? आप then grow up believing आप were never good enough for anyone; anything. How could anyone प्यार a freak like you? Someone that doesn't know how to fight and just takes the shit that is thrown at them? But आप were raised that way? आप were always taught to be loving and compassionate, and because every time आप did stand your ground and fight back the knives would cut आप down till आप were nothing.
Right?
So here आप are at the guillotine, there is no need for you. आप stood up for yourself, and people that do that can only have one fate: Have everyone against them and face their extermination. The breath of the everyone is let out in one exhale, all the money placed on the तालिका, टेबल for आप failing is awarded to the betters, and आप are going to fall like the rest of the freaks that don't fit in.
Right?
Wrong.
आप back away, and dive off the tightrope. Who wants to live a life like everyone else, when आप can live free. Who gives a fuck if everyone around आप spits in disgust, you're you.
So even if आप don't feel needed, even if आप aren't brand new, even if आप aren't the shiniest, या the strongest, the thickest, या the coolest. आप are still आप and even if आप are the weakest link, आप sit in the middle of the connection, and the chain you're on will break apart without you.
Right?
Right.
((Just feeling bad about myself today and felt like लेखन it out... I don't care if this get one view या none.. it just felt goof to get it out.))