Authored: November 11, 2023

I am curled into the dark corner of my bed, scared and alone. But no worries — it is all fake. My tears will be forever forgotten, lost in the sea in many others stories. Mine will not stand out, I know. Yet, I keep on going. I... wonder why.

Just as I said many years ago, I made a mask and hide myself behind it. Now I am the weirdo, the freak, and that has become a real part of me. The result is me not really knowing who I might be. Just a girl? Just some kid with privileges? Someone no one truly cared about? But, in the end, I just push the thoughts away.

Now, I just wanted to make myself... beautiful. No makeup, no surgery, I don’t want any of that. Humanity is like a goddamn wreck, and I am just another ugly face lost in a sea. I want to cure myself, get rid of that nagging notion in the back of my head. So, I ask no one in particular, “can’t my story be beautiful enough to be heard?”

Alas, it doesn’t seem like it is. ...I don’t think it ever will be.