This isn’t about what you think it’s about. Idk tho, maybe you’re right.
I love to write, but I don’t write that often. I am depressed, but I feel extremely motivated from time to time. I sometimes cry violently for no apparent reason. I am selfish at times, but on others, extremely giving. I feel like I have definite principles, but can still be swayed by public opinion on some occasions. I am too young. I am too old. My whole life is still ahead of me. I have already wasted my entire existence. I don’t know what path to take. I have a clear image of where I want to be. I am not who you think I am. You know exactly what kind of person I am. I am you. I am as random as the falling of rain…but is the falling of rain random? I cannot be defined. I want someone to figure me out. I am irrelevant. I secretly want some people to make me their priority. I am fine on my own. I will be someone relevant someday. I just want to get through life. I live for TV series and movies. I care about other people. I should love myself first. I am not gullible. I won’t read the whole article. I don’t give a damn about what other people think. Do I sound like what I want to sound like in this Facebook comment?
No, this isn’t just about me. Nothing’s wrong with you, honey. Humans are not on earth to emanate perfection. Just always try not to hurt anyone. Or destroy the planet.