Sad Kids

1

I would be surprised if anyone read this. Seeing as how I'm just going to ramble until I can make sense of what I'm feeling. I could have easily done this in a journal and not have wasted your time. If you came here for a storybook, I apologize. I'm not saying I won't tell stories, but it won't be a novel. You know with characters, storylines, conflicts, plots. It's very unclear to me what the plot of my life is. And maybe that's why I'm making my feelings so public. Maybe without even noticing I realized I needed help and this is my way of asking for it. Feel free to leave or drop a comment or whatever you feel like you should do.

But for those who are staying get comfy. I don't know who you are and you don't know who I am. Maybe that's why this will work so well because I don't feel the need to filter my honesty. Since we are strangers and there is no way that you can hold me responsible for the things that I say, I will take off my mask and be a genuine person for once in my fucking life.

And that's what I need a space to release.

I'm 212 words in and I haven't said anything- 220 now.

So I'll start with this. I'm unhappy. I'm so fucking unhappy that I don't know what to do. Even typing this is too much of a chore because I'm racking my brain for something relatable to say without realizing I already have.

Everyone is unhappy. Some people are just better at hiding it.

Are you happy? If you are comment. Maybe I can find some happiness from yours. Somebody tell me a happy story. Maybe I'll chuckle, that would be nice.

If you are unhappy you can tell me if you want. I'll probably find some community in that. And by community I mean that I won't feel alone.