I don’t know whats wrong with me.
Is it my hair, my personality, my music, my humor or lack thereof?
I don’t know.
I try, and I try very hard.
To fit in, to make people happy to make people like me.
I don’t know how to do that.
Everyone has something they’re good at.
I don’t know what my something is.
I’m not funny, I’m not fast, I’m not coordinated, I’m not good looking.
What am I then?
I could not tell you.
If I had to choose a work off the top of my head, it would be…
I don’t know my purpose in life, I don’t know why I am here.
It seems like people are figuring it out.
I am just as confused as ever.
It is like the world is taunting me, holding happiness just out of reach.
I lunge for it, and it is pulled away.
I ask for it, it is refused.
I steal it, and it is stolen back.
It is a cruel laugh each time, a haunting laugh.
Every rejection, every loss, every defeat.
When will it end?
It is not that I hate myself.
Each day I wake up and want to be a better me, and I do it.
My hair, my personality, my music, my humor.
I am content with me.
So why is nobody else?