But most people wouldn’t understand.
They don’t see that there is more to me than just being here, living as only a human can. I don’t try to be strange. In fact, I strive to be ‘normal.’
Popular, I’d like to be.
Famous, why not?
Loved, the dream.
But instead, I’m stuck here, bleeding my darkness out onto the Internet. I suppose you could say that this is how I cope with my hidden depression.
Of course, it’s not depression.
I am perfectly fine otherwise, unless I’m alone with no one but myself and nothing but my thoughts. Then, the dark really begins to leak out. So, then, why do I like being alone? Is it because I can behave the way I want, say the things I want? Since there is no one around to judge me, nobody that I have to please?
Like I said, it’s not depression.
I am not what society calls ’emo.’ I don’t stare out at people from under black eyelids. I don’t curse those I hate, I don’t ignore those I love. I behave as you would expect someone to behave, when I am in public.
I have enough friends.
I pay attention during class.
I do my homework.
I do chores,
I read books,
I play games,
And I smile.
I am not suicidal.
I’m not brave enough for that.