Sometimes I wonder, why do I even try?

Sometimes I stare at myself in the mirror, my ironed-straight and dyed brown hair, my perfectly plucked eyebrows, my perfected makeup that takes up quite a big portion of my morning, my crooked teeth that currently have braces so they can soon be straightened and perfect like the rest of me, or at least what the rest of me is trying to be.

Sometimes I cry. I think about my life and the people in it and the people that have left it. I long for that happy feeling that decides when it is going to flow in and out of my body, only stopping for short visits every once in a while. I think about the people that love me, the ones who used to love me, especially the ones who hate me- most of which don’t even know me. This leads me to wonder, what did I do to deserve this judgement?

Maybe they say these things to feel better about themselves? Who knows, but when it all comes down to it, putting someone else down doesn’t make you any better of a person. Never has, never will..

Sometimes I scream. I yell at my family, my friends, glare at the people who don’t like me. I get so frustrated and I feel that the only way to get out my anger is by taking it out on my family. But they forgive me, what is a family that never fights anyways? Not a strong one in my eyes.

Sometimes I sing. I find that writing songs calms me down. Some days when it seems like there is just no point to life anymore, I pick up my guitar or sit down and the piano and vent out everything that needs to be said. Music gives me hope.. Hope that the future will someday be better and brighter.

Sometimes I ask myself, what’s the use? If I spend hours trying to look my best, I will be glared down and talked about for either trying too hard or not being original. If I gossip, I will get gossiped about for gossiping, and it will not make me any better of a person. If I cry, it will only make myself feel weaker. If I sing, I will once again be made fun of, because people just don’t know how to keep their thoughts to themselves, and blame someone for trying to follow their dreams.

Sometimes I wonder, why do I even try?