I’ve always had a problem with contentment. I always feel as if other people have more than me. I feel my siblings get more of anything than what I get. I don’t think I feel envious of them, I don’t even feel covetousness towards what they have, I just wonder why it’s different for them and me. My parents always say I have more, but it simply isn’t true, and I think that’s what makes me mad the most, that they keep on saying I have everything I want when I don’t. Anyway, I just don’t have anyone to talk to. Again.
I wish I can fly to the moon and never come back. N one can see me anyway, no one would notice. Pressures are hard to deal with, especially when you face them every single day. See them everyday, hear them everyday. Grow up, they say. Yeah, what if I don’t want to? Everything and everyone is making me feel nauseous. I can’t deal with this. I need to go someplace nice. Somewhere I can dream, I can imagine. Somewhere I can pretend.