I’m the voice inside your head you refuse to hear. I’m the face you have to face mirrored in yourself.

Every child craves their parents approval, right? This would explain why, when at home, I constantly feel empty and void of the majority of positive emotions. Heh.
So how’s it feel to know such a miserable person?
I guess it’s my own fault really. I mean, it’s not like I try my fucking hardest to gain my father’s approval or anything. Yeah, ’cause I totally try my best to be showered with an abundance of disapproving, sarcastic comments. I so totally love the waterfall of negativity I sit at the bottom of in the fucking fetal position.
The saddest part is I’ll never be able to tell him how much he’s actually crushed my whole emotional being and caused me so much pain that I wished I were dead. No, he’ll never know.

“Memory is merely a record.”

I’ll be okay. Always am.