THE EXISTENTIAL CRISIS OF A FRESHMAN

I am really confused. One day i am this, another dya, i am that. Most days I wake up, simply angry i wasn't dead yet, but being to scared to dimply jump of, let go. So read my life. Maybe i would finally be able to take that leap off life or maybe, just maybe it will get better.

EXTRACT:
It is like I woke up one day hurting and it all piled up till I can't take it anymore. The load multiplied till my back broke, now it is all spilling out, my so called self-control, my so called self-esteem, my so called happiness, all pouring out to reveal the cracks underneath the smiles, the tears underneath my smiling eyes, my happy face cracking to show the hurt expression. I cannot take it anymore. I cannot take it, it hurts so much. This may be why people commit suicide, not that I want to, I am just too scared of death and pain, it is the pain, the fact that no one really cares to ask what is wrong, the fact that no one asks why they sleep more, why they eat less, why they simply seclude themselves from the world. It is the feeling that they get when they realize no one actually cares, no one is actually there for them, the feeling that makes them jump, let go of the railing, let go of the only hope they have. LIFE.