An escape

One day,
I want you to read this and promise me.
It wasn't your fault at all.


Dont blame yourself.
Dont blame anyone.
Its supposed to happen to my life, now or later.
But please stop asking me why.
Because I dont even know why it happened to me.

You can talk behind me, talk about me, all the way you want. The thing is, im not the old me any longer.
 I dont care, and i will never be.
The girl you used to know as the girl who get hurts easily, who was known as a suicide girl because she often talked about it.
The girl that full of pain and sorrow. And if you knew her well, you might know how often she got depressed.
The girl who cursed a lot, why? Because she hates everyone and everything. and she still curses until now.
The girl who's been in pain for a long time, and decided to stop being stupid.
She stopped being nice and kind to people. She didnt trust anyone. She circled herself in her most comfortable little zone, with her laptop. Thats why people often asked her why she stayed all day all year in home.
And you JUDGED HER for being like this, and that. WHEN the fact was YOU dont even KNOW A single FUCK about her life. SO Stop being SO FUCKing STUPID, whores.
Why? Because everything seemed a lot much better when she is alone.
She started to write, to fill the emptiness.
She write, to keep herself accompanied.
Writing becomes something that keeps her alive. She loves her writings.
She dreamnt of something, and she wished to do that once. Or maybe twice.
She heard about it a lot,
"It can heal the pain for a while. Dont you get sick of it all this time? Lets take a break, it must be fun. You gotta try. Try it because you'll never know. The world is way too harsh and you gotta enjoy it."
 Here she is now.


Yeah, i used to be that girl.