The past years I have learned so much about myself, much about what I don’t understand, mostly with what I love, what I hate, what I like, what I dislike. I’ve always been a girl with a heavy soul, bringing a heavy baggage wherever I go. I learned that I will never be happy until I accept what happiness means to me. In my world, however, that’s slim. I learned wherever I go, home or outside of home, I will never find what fulfills my soul. I always end up losing myself. Moments where I thought I had it, moments I thought, this is it. But for some reason, I already know what’ll happen with my future in that circumstance. It’s like having a deju-vu a year later, as if I have been in that position.

Trust me I know, I have tried many times to fix myself. I couldn’t. I don’t know really what people think of me. I’ll just go with the obvious “She’s too dumb to do anything with her life I can see it” I played myself dumb in front of people, I played this characters people wish of me to be; only to downplay and self-sabotage. I love being in pain because I’m a masochist. But no one truly knows my heart &amp; how deeply I feel for people.

I wanted peace I couldn’t have. I wanted love, seems like I couldn’t understand, I wanted a friend, seems like I couldn’t trust. I wanted a family, seems like an unlucky daughter to have. I wanted a career, which seems like something I couldn’t reach. I wanted to dream, seems like I couldn’t achieve.

And the list takes you into an endless loop of self-depreciation &amp; despair.

Cheers. I'll just sulk here and try not to breathe.