All the joy in the universe cannot mend the poignant despondency that has tortured me into a hollow shell of my former self. But when every once thinks you’re crap after one glance what else are you supposed to think of yourself? Then there are the people that do a double take, and find that I become a significant part of their life. But even so they still treat me like dirt, like my feelings don’t matter at all and that the ghastly things that they have done to me don’t matter, like I don’t remember. I’m just a piece of filth floating insignificantly in the wind; I’m nothing but a granule of sand in this world. I’m fighting for a life that isn’t worth fighting for and it’s all in vain. Then some people say I can make something of myself, of my life when really it’s all a pack of lies. If I did something that was the greatest thing ever, it wouldn’t matter to me. It’s not like someone’s gonna come along and pat me on the back saying good job. Even if it did happen I wouldn’t care, why should someone care about me when I’m worthless? When there are all these beautiful successful people out there that should be praised. I don’t care if people think I should care more about myself, so far there hasn’t been any proof that I should. Everybody, even my friends, treats me like trash. If only one person truly cared about me and loved me, it could change my whole perspective on life, but I know I’d never be that lucky when even the black box wouldn’t survive in my presence.
Still, if I could meet some that loved me for who I am not judging appearances it would make a difference. But I know that’ll never happen, life isn’t like a fairytale and you have to work at things to make them happen. I have tried, but even in my highest point it still feels like I’m at my lowest. Even with my life at its highest point sense I was born it still sucks. It feels like it’s incomplete and even though I know my highest point will get higher come high school I’ll never be able to shake the feeling.
I’m a good person and no one can argue otherwise towards that point, accept maybe a girl named Vanessa. But she only argues that because she hates how well I take things, how I’m not offended and the fact that everyone would rather pick me over her. That’s because she is the rudest meanest person any of us has ever met, I have manners and am not mean to people, except for her. No matter what, weather people are kind to me or violent she is the only exception to the fact I show respect to all.

But still it will never matter, there are plenty of people who would smile at the news of my death, people like her. Then there are the people that even though they don’t like me they would still be sad at that news. And the people who cry and never forgive me for leaving their world. There’s no getting over the fact I feel like an insignificant piece of…
…Still I do hold my tongue at the people that challenge my pride. I’ve worked too hard to go back to who I once was, no amount of material things could pardon that. Never shall I swallow my pride over the names people call me or the foul disgrace that flows from their own mouths. Because I will not make myself less than who I have become, they only enforce the face the world isn’t fare.