t h e s e are all the same.

I whine and I bitch within my heart, but this diary of mine, now upgraded with a disgustingly real father's credit card, is here for the sole purpose of listening to me whine. Why do they all have to be the same? What is it that makes them better? Being declined at the "elite" places of writing has hurt me more than words can say, yet I was never given a reason why I wasn't good enough. I just want to know why. I don't think that's too much. I thought it was about originality and uniqueness, but aparently not. Everyone is the same. Everyone is beautiful. Everyone is sweet. Everyone knows they are beautiful, but they will never admit that they know they're beautiful. They just go on pretending that they're disgustingly hideous creatures that have no place on the planet when they know that it's definitely the furthest thing from the truth that they've ever said/written. Why the lies? It's supposed to be brutal honesty, but the truth is so drab and boring that people would just rather make up a depressing and sad truth. What's more depressing than that, even, is the fact that the truth, the real truth is depressing. The fact that there isn't anything to occupy the truth, except emptiness. By pretending that you know you're empty, nothing will be achieved. Write your thoughts. But thoughts upon the truth, not upon how you wish others to percieve you. If you're beautiful, and you know you are, don't pretend like you're not. I bet that nobody has been called ugly as many times as I have, because you're all so beautiful. So very beautiful. I envy each and every one of you so much that I could cry every time I look at the projection of your minds, and then at my own. The mirror is my worst enemy. One of these days, I'll have the courage to smash it and no longer be my worst enemy. Perhaps everything I say is out of jealousy. Is that what you think? If so, you're more correct than you'll ever know...

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