From the outside looking in, most people think I’m crazy. From my point of view, living within the craziness, it merely feels like I’m being chastised for being honest within a world of liars.
After 25 years, I still don’t know what it means to be human. Unless the existential dread that I garner every day is the embodiment of humanity. But at this point in my life, I try not to be negative. I try not to be consumed in the darkness of my past. I tell myself that I’ve reached the other side of the tunnel and being humble is proof of that.
Loneliness Isn't Real 