It's not like I give much to the world, but I always don't get as much from it. And I shouldn't feel betrayed or self-entitled because the world doesn't owe me anything. The world does not have perfectly-shaped holes that fit what I want. The world is different and varied and wild. The world tosses you things you'd never want but it expects you to still be you.

You. And I. We are not the same. Not then, not now. So most of the time you and I don't fit and things don't fall in their places and hearts get hurt and minds get lifeless. And life gets bitter.

I tire myself from a constant need for self-assurance and a yearning to please others. Am I not good enough? Am I too loud? Am I too quiet? Am I too sharp? Too snappy? To be myself is to question whether people will accept me. And when there is less than I expect, I crumble inside.