One day I tried to reveal to those around me what saddened and disturbed me, but I could not find anything better than my pen to reveal to them what was inside me.
It was not only a hard day like all other days, but it was a day... What can I say about a day in which I lost a person whom I had taken as a box to keep secrets that I was afraid to tell myself? Although I tried to console myself by pretending, as usual, that nothing had happened, despite the fact that there was no cure for a wound other than time.
However, when I returned to my room, which, although it is a despicable room, it means a lot to me, as it is the place where my weak personality appears, hidden behind the mask of the girl with the strong personality, I was surprised that she was no longer like that, and a storm of anger struck me that made me reveal what had been preoccupying me all day, and I even hurt someone without... He meant, but I checked myself and was going to ask for forgiveness, but that took enough time for human grudges and satanic obsessions to have a wrong view of me. It is not for me to say that it is an miserable day in the meaning of the word. I am miserable because of my good opinion of others and their bad opinion of me.
