Thoughts.

"I love to hate". If that "hook" sentence didn't hook you I can't imagine the rest of this will. But that's okay, I don't need acceptance ( at least that's what I like to tell myself). What I need is my brain, my heart, and my body to agree with my soul that I just don't care. I'm in a constant battle with myself. I assume everyone likes me and that everyone hates me. And if that doesn't make me crazy, then I think I just don't deserve this good life, but is my life good? I believe that no one else in this big world feels what I feel. Could it be that there is another awkwardly tall 15 year old with good looks (at least I think I look good). That is shy and blushes all the time. NO there can't be. If there was, then how come I haven't found a story like this? Does the idea that I'm different keep me from killing myself? Maybe, and maybe not. I believe if you are different, everyone knows you. With 7 billion people in this world, someone out there thinks just like you. If they don't, then you must be Steve jobs or mark zuckerburg, but your not, and neither am I. What I am, is a teenager who thought "why not write a story?" But I don't like to write, and that is because the writing you have to do in class helps you in no way. "Write about what goes on in your mind". That should blow your mind, "what DOES go on in my mind", but it doesn't, and it never will. Why? Well. You look up from your paper and see all the kids who are just like you, then you realize the teacher said they will pick people to share their stories. Now, your creativity lowers, you realize you will be judged. Even if your story is so generic, those kids will look at you different. So instead of writing something INCREDIBLY deep, you end up writing something patheti...

... middle of paper ...

... many of today's marriages end in divorce that when something like that does happen, its almost major news. Maybe "love" was real, but were changing into such monsters that its becoming so rare, we assume it is no longer real.
As I write this, I realize the demons inside me have spoken what they believe in. Will I believe everything I just wrote a year from now? Or a day? Perhaps and perhaps not. I will change what I believe in as will you. We are never the same person. Wether a decade has past or a day. The way we see life will change as we meet new people, as we see new things. As we enter that unfamiliar territory. We hope we will still believe in what we once did, otherwise we feel like we failed. But we did not, we changed. That change could be for the better, or for the worse.
If I confused you I apologize. If I enlightened you, I have succeeded.

My Thoughts.