im tired every day. or, let me put it this way: im tired of being me.
i know its ungrateful for me to say so and the fact is im very grateful to be alive.
most people that i know look at me from the outside and think that im happy and comfortable with who im.
no im not.
im not that carefree, mad, sociable and crazy girl that you think you know.
few people have looked inside.
i still feel like that girl that others bully into a corner and speak nothing about it.
i still like to hide under the blanket and speak to no one for the whole day.
and no, im not happy.
it doesnt matter what i do and where i go.
the past drags me into the shadows every once in a while.
im pathetically seeking for love, for warmth, for that feeling you get sitting by the fireside while it snows outside.
but no one ever knows.
