I am lying here in a corner of my room, secretly hoping someone magical will come and pick me up from here and tell me they need me, and tell me that we will live in this world together, and tell me that everything would be fine, and tell me that they are not doing a favor on me but they really want my company. A lot of people do come around and ask if I am okay, and I am sure a good proportion of those people actually do care about my well-being, but not enough to do something about it. I am not complaining, can I? Sometimes, I really get hope that there is someone who actually cares, but let me tell you one thing, there is nothing worse than hope.
Hope makes you weaker to face the truth. Hope makes you miserable. Hope pushes you more and more towards a fantasy world, far far away from reality. Hope is given such a positive annotation in our society, but I will tell you this, which no one else ever would, never have hopes.
I am lying here in the corner of my room, no one to listen to what I have to say and thats why I say the truth, no one to help and thats why I know the truth and no one to care and that’s why it doesn’t matter.