I have to get serious for a second. For the first time in this book, I'll be straightforward on how I feel. Besides, with the deletion of My Dark Book, there's no stories on where I can be serious. I could make a new one, but I feel that would be a waste.
I was private messaging one of my "friends" when I heard that word. "Friend..." I don't use or hear that word unless absolutely necessary. I take it to heart. I haven't heard that word directed to me for YEARS!
At first, I was proud to be called that. "Friend?" What an interesting word! But when I come back to reality, malice and depression waited for me.
Am I a friend? Am I at least a good one? I sit every night wishing for one, but later admits he has none. I have the balls to say I have none. BULLSHIT!
Tears harden an empty heart, but makes you an ungrateful brat. I cry every day. Not with tears, but with silent screams. That makes me a useless piece of human life, only to scream to himself. It's s silent pain.
Friend? The healing word.
