when you read something this good, you just have to pass it along
my little sister wrote this. i hope she doesn't mind i stole it, i'm in awe of her and all i can do is shut up and let her words sink in:
"At least I’m not fake like you. At least I don’t pick on people who might not have it that well. I make mistakes, I say things I don’t mean, I tell secrets, I tell lies - but I know when I do and I regret it and I apologize. I don’t bask in the overwhelming pain of others, overjoyed to know that I’m the one that caused it. I don’t like to hurt people like you do. you act so ruthless that you're barely human. I still thought that somewhere beneath the layers of hardened soul, a merciless shell, there might remain fragments of the friend I used know. but you're dead inside, every single one of you who has done these things. I know what its like and I can only pity you for the day you wake up and realize it, for the day when you peel off your makeup like a mask of skin and know that it’s hiding nothing, to know that you're any empty void. this is what happens when you hurt good people - you hurt yourself. I tried to keep the best of you in mind, I still hoped that behind eyelashes heavily painted black, there were still the kind smiling eyes of someone who used to be there for me - but now they are empty cold and disinterested. I wanted things to stay okay, even if they weren’t good with us. but I don’t think I can bear to look at your face anymore, if I would even recognize it; your hair looks so straight and crisp that I think I could bend it and it would break; your face has so much makeup on it that you look like a china doll; I’ve never seen you look this thin before. Why don’t you people think that you’re pretty as you are? What is this preoccupation you have with self-image, or the arrogance you have to so brutally remark on things that are natural and real? I used to worry about you occasionally when I had reason to, because I cared. Now I become sick to my stomach because I now know what you’ve become. Did they make you into this? I thought as humans we have complete control over our actions but one never knows for certain what the outcome may be. I didn’t know you for a very long time, but still we were friends and you stuck by me when I thought surely you would want to avoid me. If we could go back in time, I know that you would hate who you are now. And if I knew that this loyal, caring, funny, considerate friend of mine would turn into a compulsive destructive, both to herself and others, bully…I would have never let it happen either. I would’ve tried to stop you from shattering the mirror and melting into the mold."
alison
"At least I’m not fake like you. At least I don’t pick on people who might not have it that well. I make mistakes, I say things I don’t mean, I tell secrets, I tell lies - but I know when I do and I regret it and I apologize. I don’t bask in the overwhelming pain of others, overjoyed to know that I’m the one that caused it. I don’t like to hurt people like you do. you act so ruthless that you're barely human. I still thought that somewhere beneath the layers of hardened soul, a merciless shell, there might remain fragments of the friend I used know. but you're dead inside, every single one of you who has done these things. I know what its like and I can only pity you for the day you wake up and realize it, for the day when you peel off your makeup like a mask of skin and know that it’s hiding nothing, to know that you're any empty void. this is what happens when you hurt good people - you hurt yourself. I tried to keep the best of you in mind, I still hoped that behind eyelashes heavily painted black, there were still the kind smiling eyes of someone who used to be there for me - but now they are empty cold and disinterested. I wanted things to stay okay, even if they weren’t good with us. but I don’t think I can bear to look at your face anymore, if I would even recognize it; your hair looks so straight and crisp that I think I could bend it and it would break; your face has so much makeup on it that you look like a china doll; I’ve never seen you look this thin before. Why don’t you people think that you’re pretty as you are? What is this preoccupation you have with self-image, or the arrogance you have to so brutally remark on things that are natural and real? I used to worry about you occasionally when I had reason to, because I cared. Now I become sick to my stomach because I now know what you’ve become. Did they make you into this? I thought as humans we have complete control over our actions but one never knows for certain what the outcome may be. I didn’t know you for a very long time, but still we were friends and you stuck by me when I thought surely you would want to avoid me. If we could go back in time, I know that you would hate who you are now. And if I knew that this loyal, caring, funny, considerate friend of mine would turn into a compulsive destructive, both to herself and others, bully…I would have never let it happen either. I would’ve tried to stop you from shattering the mirror and melting into the mold."
alison