I keep on scribbling, scribbling my heart. Have you ever read that. Well... That's something no one have dared to read. Because it's deep, it makes you hate the world, hate the people, hate the life and that's the real me. The one you see is the mask, the mask of happiness, a mask of glory and a mask of satisfaction. Behind the mask lies the face of the refugee of a suicidal attempt, a face of clueless wonder a face of hatred towards everything. This is me. I lack support and neither do I starve for support. But they say i lack empathy. I do understand what others are suffering, I do understand the hurt inside them. But what's the need of empathy towards them if they think I am acting? Empathy is just a 7 letter word which is just a fake feeling on our brains, its not something we have to experss to others its something we should have inside us. The real me sinking deeper into the ocean of tears. The real me is scared of humans, the same humans who broke me into pieces, the same humans who left me and the same humans who are still acting in front of me. The real me is travelling to the past while the fictional me is living the present. The real me is searching for a flawless moment in the past while the fictional me is living the boring reality - the present. The real me is trying to figure out from where I got this fictional me, while the fictional me is trying to figure out other's problem. What you see in me is completely fake. I have two faces and none of them are good. No one can trust me. I have changed and am changing, so be careful while being with me. I can be a poison to your heart. This is the real me who knows the reality lies in the present and try to fix the past.