bad journal #17
When The Devil Speaks
I want to die. I want to die. I want to die.
I want. To die.
You think I'm nice, and friendly and the most insanely polite person you have ever met. You think I can't even speak a word. Or say a simple hello. You think I'm so quiet that I couldn't possibly hurt a fly.
You are WRONG.
I'm mean, and selfish, and rude and immensely self-centered.
I disrespect my parents. I get so jealous of my friends. I think so negatively about everything. I see myself as a worthless human being and that the world can do so much better without me.
I'm NOT fishing for compliments.
I'm pouring my heart out because if I don't, I feel like I might just explode.
I don't think ANYONE can hate on anybody as much as I hate MYSELF.
Don't tell me otherwise. Because YOU DON'T KNOW ME.
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Sorry..
YOU ARE READING
bad journal
Short StoryI am terribly sorry to disappoint you but this isn't a story. This isn't fiction. None of this is made up. This is reality coming from an imaginative mind. This is my life.. in all it's flaws and imperfections, and tears and smiles and the rest of a...
