..and I was different.
"He is weird," said my seniors, tone redolent with mockery. And nicknames began. I have now lost count of the names. There are many, and it reached my home. My single mother was worried about who I was going to be. Though...
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"
Dear
Hey! Don't you dare to break stereotypes? These things will happen in the same way as it always has. Oh, boy! Does it hurt? Oh, let it be, who cares about you anyway? We are punishing you of why you were born this way. Yeah, it is not your mistake. I know. But that gives me pleasure to hurt you, to torment you, to insult you every day.
Don't dare to speak. What if they utter some shit about you? Does it hurt now? Oh, take it on you, but don't you dare speak anything. Bullied? Being made jokes on? Consider this a privilege that 'they' are even thinking about you. Boy, boy, boy, you disgust them. Why are you even alive? You should die. Oh, nah, nah you shouldn't. Or they will end in jail. Be alive. , so they can make joke about you all day, and laugh on them all day even if they are not at all hilarious.
Did they say your face is one only a mother could love? Sorry to break it you, but yeah they're right. Who wants to love you anyways? Wanna try a therapist? Ha ha, I told you. He was mad. Therapist would tell you to recognize your self-worth, but do you have any?
No matter, how much you'll try to love yourself; I'll always be there to break you. All the best.
Your best friend, LOL
Your bully.
"
This is what a bully is? They know the means to intimidate people. They know the way around. Stand up to bullies, there is no shame in taking help. Take help from people. Help is just a help-know this. The help you take doesn't define you to be weak or anything. Embrace yourself. Embrace your scars. Our scars only tell us about the places we've been. They don't dictate where we're going, or where we'll be going.
But the people who bully should realize this too. It's not cool to be so cool about the torture you do to people. Need to incorporate compassion, affection and kindness.
In all this, I couldn't help but wonder: when did we become heartless?
