Another peice of s**t I'm calling writing

 Why do I write?

 Honestly I don't know why I try.

 I guess it just feels like a release, you guys can have an insight into my life.

 I don't know why my parents scream so much, I mean I'm not a bad child.

 I have breakdowns every now and then when I cry and fight, I push everyone away.

 I don't try to push people away, to put up a wall so they stay a safe distance away.

 I just don't want to go off and obliterate everything that I care about.

 I feel like barriers are the safest thing for everyone.

 I get called a b***h on a daily basis, I compulsively lie to people when they ask if I'm okay.

 What the in the ever living hell does OKAY even mean?!

 I say okay and I mean , no I'm f*****g terrible everything is falling apart around me and 'm doing f*****g fantastic.

 Being broken doesn't mean that I have turned into nothing.

 I don't know why people yell.

 At school my teachers don't yell at me they tell me that I am an exceptional student.

 My friends love me, I'm a good laugh.

 I love the sky and the world just not the other hateful people in it.

 Oblivion seems like a day dream, but I know that it will be a nightmare.

 There, you have seen most of the bullshit in my life in a short piece of crap that I call writing.