If I said anything, things might change for the better.
But it is not a true action but an effort.
Friday, March 31, 2017
Maybe I'm just feeling that
To the world we'll testify
Perceptions.
Societal perceptions.
When you feel like a problem in this society.
No one is to define how we are to be as humans.
No one teaches us to be normal.
There is too much definition of what's wrong and what's right.
But yet again, feeling alone because there are only few who see what I see.
I guess it's all back to the basis of human instinct.
We all need to feel love to survive.
We fight to earn the love.
And when we are wired different from others, who's there to give us that love.
Who's going to tell you that it's alright to be like this.
Who's there to remind you that your normal doesn't need to be everyone's normal.
If only I could open my mouth,
without having the fear of misinterpretation.
And the judgements from this world.
It's tiring.
It really is.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Great
Now they know I have problem.
Why did I even break down in front of them.
If only I could keep it to myself.
Why do you have to fucking start every conversation
By shouting at me.
Do I deserve to get shouted every fucking time.
Can you hear my inner screams?
If not please don't do it again.
But it's not going to happen.
I'll just let them be noises.
It won't hurt that much.
If I can be numb about certain stuffs.
I'm a fucking adult.
23 years old for fuck sake.
Why do I have to report every fucking thing to you?
Why do you even have to call me every fucking 12am.
Does it make me come home faster.
You don't even listen.
How I wish I can tell you anything.
But I can't
Even if I did, you won't understand.
You won't understand the pain.
No one does.
And it's okay.
Or maybe it's not.
Do I deserve to get shouted every fucking time.
Can you hear my inner screams?
If not please don't do it again.
But it's not going to happen.
I'll just let them be noises.
It won't hurt that much.
If I can be numb about certain stuffs.
I'm a fucking adult.
23 years old for fuck sake.
Why do I have to report every fucking thing to you?
Why do you even have to call me every fucking 12am.
Does it make me come home faster.
You don't even listen.
How I wish I can tell you anything.
But I can't
Even if I did, you won't understand.
You won't understand the pain.
No one does.
And it's okay.
Or maybe it's not.
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