When I was 19.

July 14, 2007, 5:56PM

How many special people change?

It's hard to keep quiet when you think that everything around you seems to be wrong.

I have a blog, but I'm not a blogger.

I think more than I speak.
I don't feel the need to talk to everyone --- or to explain myself to everybody.
And that's me.

It's sad when people don't want to listen to you when you finally want to speak up.

It's sadder when some people just don't understand, don't want to, not even try to.

People judge you even if they don't know your story -- your part of the story.

I know you see me in the hallways. I know you see me outside.

I know you see me smiling and laughing, but I'm dying inside.

Shutters closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against you. And you aren't sure whether you're walking toward something, or if you're just walking away.

I have my reasons.

I don't hate people and I don't want to.
And I just want to be okay again.

Who are we to criticize? To judge?