I don’t why I get hurt to small things. May be our heart can’t recognise the intensity of problem. Why do I get hurt all most all the time? I can’t take because I’m not used to it. O don’t know why am I living? Is it to give back what my parents gave me or it to give what I get to my kids. I don’t understand this cycle. People are here to live for others. We are unknowingly sacrificing our life’s to the people who didn’t born even.
I feel like living my parents life and may be I gonna live my kids life to make their life better. I don’t have a strong reason to live anymore. If I had to live my life the way I want then it’s never gonna happen in this shitty world. Sorry to those who think that you are leading a happy life. I don’t want it because I don’t want it. There are many reasons to be happy but there is only one reason to be sad. Sadness will go away and will keep on hitting us until the moment we die. I feel like feeling is better than reality atleast it does what we can’t. I don’t know what is making me to live because I didn’t find any reason other than making my parents proud and feeling proud of my kids if they exist if I could exist in future. I am bores of doing nothing because I don’t find crazy doing new things since I don’t have capacity to do it. I meant for nothing. I am useless I hope because I didn’t find a way to figure out the reason for my life.
I exhausted to breathe anymore because its making me tired. I am so fed up since my involuntary action also making me sick. I have a choice to live or to die. But why did I choose to live. Neither am I brave enough to die nor brave enough to live. Parents can’t understand because they are parents. They tried to make me to try something hard and make me have a good future. But it’s beyond my capacity to get what they want and they keep on pressuring me to try. I can’t take what they teach and what my parents speak. They wanted me to be like some other kid and try to compare me with every possible fellow. I tried hard to not cry because that makes me feel even mire depressed. I am what I am because everyone are different. I can’t blame parents for being such because they lived in such an atmosphere and we can’t change them until they know it themselves. I can’t blame myself for being a such useless fellow. I can’t share this with any of them because I can’t admit the fact that I cried. Being in such a state and think of own pride makes readers blame me. Everyone are right until you feel it wrong yourself.
Categories: Personality and Self Help