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We live in a world that is full of people that cannot see themselves for who they really are. I often think to my self, "How could anyone ever love me?" and this is because I cannot love myself. We do not see ourselves as we are, but as a bi-product of all the pain and hate that we have lived through our entire lives.

Countless people can tell you that you are amazing, or that anyone would be lucky to have you, but the moment a single person has the audacity to push you down we forget everything good that has ever been said about us.

Human beings are fragile and flawed, but there is such a simplistic beauty to everyone.

In a way, we are much like our eyes and perception of color. We all see differently- what I see as red, you may actually percieve as purple- and I believe this is why people have favorite and least favorite colors. In this same way, we all see other people in various lights- we are all different shades of different colors.

My favorite color is green, and I want you to know that you are someone's green.

Ǽɍiʆץи
______________________
Ð ° Ѷ ᴀ ᴌ ѳ я

Location:

Words words words.

And I will tell myself that I will be strong,
that the night does not have me.
The darkness and I,
shall be one.

Dearest Despicable Pile of Rotting Flesh,

There was a time, many many eons ago when you and I were inseparable. We were so in tune, floating high on a cloud way up in the heavens. Completing thoughts and sentences, living life to it's fullest. I loved being with you and you loved being with me. Best friends until the end, correct?

Disaster struck!

Woe and dismay, times grew hard and we had no clue how we could possibly go on living. But you stood by me and I by you. Together in a tango of dispare and regret. For years you and I served as a shoulder to cry on, mine for you when you needed it and yours for me whenever you had a chance to spare it. Slowly, time repaired a small amount of pain that dwelled below our armored shells, allowing us to continue on living as we once had, many years before.

But who would have guessed that behind that innocent face, that pure facade of flawed beauty, sat the most repulsive unseen betrayal the world had ever seen.

For two years, two whole years, I was tortured and torn apart by this little lie that had grown into something so much bigger than even you could forsee. I could hardly believe that my innocent, sweet, and caring companion could even muster the idea to be so... so cruel.

But apparently I was wrong about you. You and your disgusting tendency to weave and knit lies at every turn of life. You caused me more pain than anyone else. You could have ripped my heart from my gaping chest, shoved your hand down my throat and pulled my lungs out, ripped apart every inch of my body and it still would have hurt less than the pain you put me through.

And you don't even know that I know.

How bitter sweet this irony is. To be able to sit there and watch you going on with your life, unaware of how I know just how evil you really are. How much of a b***h you can be. Oh you simpleton. You underestimate me so. You never thought to calculate that I would figure out your lie, that your story wouldn't add up and that I would find out just what you did.

I despise you.

The very sight of you makes me want to take a gun and hold it to your temple, making you confess every detail of your flawed plan before pulling the trigger and watching your lifeless body fall to the floor.

But alas, in this cruel world I am unable to do so. And in such pain I will sit and watch you, waiting for the day that I can get my revenge.

Care to play a game?