Standards
In the end what will everything we’re working for really matter?
What grades we make
The friends we have
The clothes you wear
The choices and decisions made everyday
When everything is said and done we’re all going to be in the same place.
So what?
We strive to live a happy, healthy, successful life but then after all that you die.
I’m just not going to care anymore.
Maybe the sooner I stop caring, the easier everything will become, and the faster my life will pass me.
Nothing really matters.
We’re all going to amount to exactly the same thing-nothing but one among billions of other nobodies.
I don’t see the “miracle” of life.
I haven’t had a greatest day.
There’s no one thing I look forward too-except maybe sleep.
It seems that maybe if I weren’t around things would be the exact same, because no matter how hard, or how much I try to strongly impact someone it always goes unnoticed.
I don’t want to have to continue to try so hard, only to get nowhere.
I’ll never be good or great at anything.
I’ll never be ‘popular’
I’ll never be the one boys go after
All I’ll ever be is myself, and right now that isn’t good enough.
The one thing I’ve always wanted is to be looked up to.
Just to be something to someone.
Anything.
Paid attention to.
Noticed.
Not completely, and utterly ignored.
Not blamed for every little thing.
Not guilty for doing what I think is right.
I want to be the kind of girl who doesn’t give a shit.
The girl that people are somehow COMPELLED to like.
Whether it’s because of her incredible mysterious aura, or the fact that she knows how to have fun.
As much as I want it, it’s not like the hot pink Coach purse I got yesterday, I’ll never have it.
I wasn’t meant to be like that.
I’ll always be overshadowed
Never given enough chances or any at all.
It’s all brought on by myself.
I hate the way I act.
Either I act too loud and am labeled obnoxious.
Too quiet and thought of as weird, or stuck up.
Too sarcastic then considered a bitch.
Too perverted and regarded as disgusting and immature.
Hey. That’s me. If I was that cold hard bitch I’d tell you to accept it and get over yourselves. I’m not though, so just give me insight on what I’m doing wrong.
Why I don’t fit the mold.
Why I feel that no matter how hard I try I’ll never be good enough for your standards.