The Truth

They all smile at me through their teeth. They say hello, just to be nice. They brush me off, because they don’t like me. The world doesn’t care. Everywhere you see people saying “Be yourself and you’ll be found by those who are like you” I have always tried to be myself. Once I had become someone I wasn’t, it felt good for a while, I was liked, and I fit in. But the truth was I wasn’t happy, so I went back to being me. But the world doesn’t care for people like me. I’m different, though I can’t tell you how. There are 300 million people living in America, if I did things like everyone else, then who am I?
I’m not asking for anyone’s sympathy, I’m just stating who I am and how I feel. I feel like I’m and unimportant doll, used and treated like a worthless dispensable object. I’m not treated like a human being that thinks and feels. If I took my own life, then would people notice my cry? Would people remember me as the nice, trustworthy, friendly person that I think I am? Or would they remember the spoiled, bratty, annoying piece of shit that they call me? Then when I ask people what makes them think I’m spoiled, or bratty, or annoying, they can’t give me and answer. They call me things but they can't tell me why they call me those names. They don't even know me, yet they judge me? What gives them the right?
Let me clarify one thing, I’m not spoiled. My family lives barely from paycheck to paycheck. I never get anything special, if I want something, I have to work for it! Maybe it’s because my family takes expensive vacations, let me tell you, we save for years to get the money to go on trips, and we split the cost with my grandparents. Spend a day in my shoes and you’ll find out what kind of life I’m living.
I hate my mom, yes, hate is a strong word. I get yelled at constantly, for stupid little things. I forgot about my first piano lesson a couple weeks ago. My mom came to pick me up from school, she asked how my piano lesson went, and I confessed that I had forgotten. By that time we were nearly home, but my mom turned the car around, drove to the school, pushed me out of the car and said “Walk home!” It’s a love hate relationship, my mom is mean and nasty, but sometimes she is kind. I still love my mom because it’s required, but I really do love her, just not when she is mean.
Moral of the story, I feel like shit and no one cares, I know they don’t. If they people at my school read this they would probably think I was crazy and say that none of what I have written is true. How would they know? The truth is not what they think, it’s what I know. Only one person can know the truth about that person. If you said “I know more about (whatever) than you do!” How do you know that? You know what you know, and I know what I know, I can’t say that I know more, and you can’t say that you know more. See my point?
We are always trying to be better, always trying to prove a point that we are better. But the truth, the real honest truth, is that we are no better and no less than any other person on this earth.