You haven’t even had a glimpse of what I have to go through and yet you so easily compare me to your friends. If I needed people to put my life into perspective, I would have gone to a counsellor or psychiatrist. If you even had a taste of the shit I had to have, you wouldn’t put thing so cavalierly.
Positive thinking? There are people who are worse? Do you not think I know there are people out there whose lives are life and death on a daily basis? Does knowing that make my fucking life any better? Do you think I compare my life to the superior breeds of our society and am blind to the common people?
The fact is, I’m resentful of the common people. They smile, laugh and cry at the things common people can relate to. What about me? I can only dream about being sad about what common people are fucking sad about. So no… I’m not interested if your friend has to go through this or that. Neither do I need your sympathy. I just needed someone to listen to.
But now, I know.
Don’t need to pretend that you care. Neither do you need to tell me that life is this and that. I’m nearly bloody twenty-three. I’m not an idiot. I lived my life believing that life is what you make it to be. Look where it got me… So, get down your fucking high horse and don’t tell me some high-minded philosophy that I once believed in.
Because, one day when you are crying and in the rut, I will belittle what you have through and tell you that people have gone through worse. That will help you get over your sadness, wouldn’t it?