If you asked me what my brother's birthday is, I could tell you. If you asked me who his best friend is, I could even name just about all of his friends, what he wants to be when he grows up, what his favorite sports are, favorite colors, anything. I could answer just about any question regarding my brother.
But if you asked me about me...
I could never tell you. Not because I don't feel like saying, or I can't say. The reason is simply because I don't know. Maybe if you asked my friends, they would know something about me, but if you ask me, I wouldn't know.
I always hear the whispers...The whispers of others, who are normal, who are unlike me. The whispers always get to my head, no matter what mood I'm in. The silence I hear when I'm around; the whispers I hear the minute I leave. The whispers about me, not meant to be heard, but heard. The whispers not meant to be known, but known and acknowledged.
But maybe this is life. Maybe I was meant to be left out. Not meant to enjoy the life of normality. Not meant to have a life, to have never been born. A mistake. Not my parents', but the gods' mistake.
View User's Journal
Stuffs?
ahhsum
Community Member |
[img:e063ed7ca5]http://i839.photobucket.com/albums/zz318/XdarkAZNshadowX/XdarkAZNshadowX/S5004517.jpg[/img:e063ed7ca5]
User Comments: [3] [add]
|
Nullz Community Member |
Little Anonymous
Community Member |
|
User Comments: [3] [add]
Community Member