Unpopular
- Bacaan 398
- Undian 27
- Bahagian 3
Sedang Ditulis6m
Terakhir diterbitkan Kha, Feb 20, 2014
Why do people think that I'm some weird girl that has no friends. at all. what so ever nope nada. Just because I'm not part of the "it" Club didn't mean I'm wired. a nerd or anything. It just mean that I'm not interested in any of their drama. For example have any of you guys seen how some random chick starts some roomer that's not ever 1 percent true. Okay that's weird. or for another example. people call a lot of people fake, hoes, ugly, bitch, emo, nerd, weirdo,and ect. just because of how they dress and how they act. That's my everyday life in high school. filled with a lot of stuck ups and I can't even stand anyone of them. Me the "nerd" "weirdo" or whatever they call me have to come and deal with this every year till I graduate and never see them ... I hope. Oh and by the way my name is Riley Star Florence and I'm here to tell you about my unpopular life.
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emo/mute girl
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Loneliness. Depression. Broken. Scared. Devastated. Hopeless. Mournful. Disheartening. Bleak. Joyless. Somber. I have no one. Depression and Loneliness are the only things I feel. My family tries to make me happy, but I just put on a fake smile and cry about it in my room. They act like everything is alright, but everything is not. They KNOW I was devastated about Mom's murder. They KNOW I was heartbroken about Dad's sickness that eventually killed him. That's all I've thought about. Devastation and heartbroken. Just because of those two things. Never in my life I have been this devastating. Dayton, Hayden, Angel, or Monica know how to make me truly happy. Not even my own siblings know how to make me show a real smile. Suicide is all I can think about day to day and I've almost died because of that. DEPRESSION IS A REAL THING. NO ONE KNOWS HOW I FEEL EVERYDAY. NO ONE CAN JUDGE OTHERS ABOUT DEPRESSION OR EVEN MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT BECAUSE ITS A REAL THING. DEPRESSION HAS KILLED PEOPLE. EVERYONE IN MY LIFE JUDGES ME JUST BECAUSE I DON'T SMILE, LAUGH, HUG, OR DO ANYTHING NORMAL PEOPLE DO. I CUT MYSELF, I CRY, I YELL, I VENT, I PUSH PEOPLE OUT OF MY LIFE. Those are the things people are worried about me. "Go kill yourself and join your parents in hell." They say and I just shrug it off and find a private place to hide and cry it out. "I CAN'T DEAL WITH LIFE ANYMORE!!!!" I say and I use my sharp nails and cut myself then cry some more. A gun is buried within my arm for defense from my dad, but I use it in case I am tired of society. Then that's when I met the Host Club. They saw my sadness and made me a part of it to repay my debt for accidentally breaking a vase. I am now a Host for men to flatter them, but how can normal guys want me to be a Host when I wear lip earrings, eyeliner, chains, and have a gun in my arm? I'm the definition of Hell. Then he made me smile again, something that I thought I would never get back. Happiness.
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