Self Reflection

There's so many things to say about myself.

Naive.
Fake.
Arrogant.
Bastard.
n of course,
Fatso.

I was reminded of the last word from a dictionary that belonged to me in Primary School.

People has said I am a confident person but I'll beg to differ.

I look down on myself, but try very hard to mask this very painful truth.

And with a mask, comes the lies.

And with lies, fakeness. A word that may perhaps describe me best.

I am a fake person. Or even why I'm still alive.

Don't be afraid. I'm scared to kill myself.

And thoughts of suicide only drives me to the brink of madness. It won't kill me.

Crying is the best way to vent thoughts of suicide, I guess. I can swear with my life that when I'm on the brink of madness, the only way I knew to save myself will be by crying.

Even if crying makes me look like a fool. One that perhaps should not be still alive.

But as I look down on myself. As I pity myself for the cruelties of fate. The world still revolves around me. They won't stop to sympathise with me, only looking down on me more than I'll never imagine.

And for my pride to be stepped upon, I'm dead already.

Living does not mean the person is still alive. He/She is just being a living machine. Breathing but not feeling. Feeling but not happy.