Whenever I stop and stare, I regret looking.
Whenever I try to help, I feel rejected.
Whenever I think there's always hope, fate stabs me in the back.
Whenever I want to defend myself, people call me selfish.
Whenever I refuse a truly selfish one, again, I'm called selfish.
...I don't understand.
Why is it so difficult to express myself?
Why is it that I feel so different when I'm just trying to be the best person possible?
Why is it that I'm so incomprehensible to others?
Why is it so hard for them to understand all the simple things I have to say?
Is it because I try something they don't?
Is it because they dislike the fact that I hate being stereotypical and close minded?
Is it because, in the end, I'm always right and they refuse to accept it?
The truth is like a plague to them, a deadly disease.
Maybe that's the problem, they're afraid.
They're afraid to admit the truth because it doesn't appeal to them.
That's what makes me different, that's what I'm proud of.
I embrace the truth, hurtful or beneficial.
I don't want to be an ignorant like everyone else.
I don't want to pretend the truth doesn't affect me.
I don't want to live in mental fear and pretend I'm fine.
I just want to be accepted as I am.
I just want people to realize the truth.
I just want to be...myself.