Suizid ist im schlimmsten Fall immer eine Lösung!

June 23,2012

I'm not sure if I will ever be able to explain this in words, but have you ever loved someone so much that every morning you woke up you realized, you made him the reason for being here. And just when you started to believe in love again, he disappears. He walked out your life like it was nothing, like you were nothing. you spent your nights with waiting for a text you knew deep inside that would never come. Day by day you're started to realize that you were never a part of his life. You shut yourself up with feelings you knew you couldn't handle alone. Life seems empty and not worth it. And after all the hurt you kept telling yourself that he's the one for you. That's how I feel now.

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August 03, 2012

I think we spent too much time wondering why weÄre not good enough- we spend too much time over analyzing, over- thinking, and overreacting. We waste too much time putting ourselves down, so much that we don't ever stop to see that well, we are good enough. You are good enough. We spend too much time with our heads down and hearts closed; and never get a chance to look up from the ground  and see that the sun is shining and tomorrow is another day.

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September 15, 2012

I constantly wonder how my life looks in other people's eyes. Do they think I have it easy? Do they think I have nothing going on for myself? Or are they fascinated with who I am? The thing is that no one will ever know my whole story. No one will ever know the things I've had to overcome. - Not even my closest friends, not even my own family. The thing is that people are so quick to judge now a days. You only see a person from what they want and allow you to see. I always try to look as put together as I can, and I guess that's my way of hiding from the truth. It's just that, that way everyone will assume that everything in my life is okay. That I never go through anything. If only everyone knew how broken I am, and how I'm holding on for dear life on this one last strand that's recently become very delicate. The truth is that no one really knows me. No one will ever know me, and sometimes that scares me, because no one will ever know why I am the way I am.