"Is it just me..

YES.

I'm alright, people, YES, YES, YES.
No, I'm not anorexic.
No, I'm not going to fall.
Yes, I'm naturally pale-faced.
Yes, everything is alright.
Yes, I can write again, no problem.

Such lies.

Why people don't understand that I'm only feeling lonely and sad?
That I HAVE to talk with somebody?
That my mourning isn't finish yet?
That, no, I simply CANNOT living happy like everyone else.

I don't want to listen to music. I don't want to read books. I don't want to eat. I don't want to sleep. I don't want to back home. I don't want to be alone.

Me, me, me again. I hate the persons who are always speaking of themselves.
Like me.

Nobody hears my cries, it's the asset of lonelyness.
I'm so afraid of everything, of time, of life, of shadows, of being alone, alone, alone..
Without the people I love.
The people I need.
More I love a person, more I make this person suffering.
They all cried because of me, one day.

I'm late compared with the others, like always..







....Or am I all on my own again?"