A Loss In Harmony[(ON HOLD)]

A Loss In Harmony[(ON HOLD)]

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación lun, ene 21, 2019
Life. People wonder what our purpose is here. Most ask, why are we here? Others ask, what are we meant to be? What are we meant to do? Most just don't care. Most only care about the money and riches, or power and fame. But not me. I know a lot of people say this but, I really just don't. I don't care for the world. To be honest I'd rather not be alive, than live. This world is cruel. Its filled with hatred. I live in a family of twelve. Nine sisters and three brothers. Four girls dead. And one brother in collage. I pay for the bills. Day in, day out. Its how o keep myself going. Taking in the pain, letting out wasted love. That's my personal quote. I put it on my wall as motivation. Having to skip school sometimes for more hours at the bar. Still not making enough money to pay for bills. I don't know why. But I do it. Maybe for my own sake, so I can have a home. But I convince myselfni love my family. But the pain still gets to you. Even if you run. Even if you hide. It will always find you. I run from the ones who ask. From the ones who stare. From the ones who hate and judge. I can't help it. Living in the shadows is all I know. I do everything. I love them, but i dont know how much more I can take. But I can't hide from him. I can't hide from his shadows. And he always finds me. He is my pain. And my happy.
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erik
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He always assumes I want money. That money can replace my desire for a mother, for a female figure who will guide me through the darkness. All he can provide is money. He assumes that because I use the money, that I'm happy, that I don't spend night hunched over my toilet bowl physically sick to my stomach with the guilt of killing my mother. He assumes that because I have friends, that the smile on my face is genuine. That because I smile and confidently stride out of my room in a bikini, that I love myself and the way I look. He assumes everything about me, because he doesn't know me. I'm his daughter, and with the simple fact, he assumes that by just looking at me he knows my every thought. Does he know of the blood I spill when I have no other method of coping? Does he know of the times I sit and ponder about what it would be like to go through death? Does he know that when he leaves for work, I cry myself to sleep and wish for a mother? Does he know that I could care less about him? I hate him. But he loves me. Does he know, that through all this mess, I just want a mother. Because according to Disney, mother knows best?

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