As children, we are told to be a Beowulf.
To be brave and to put others before ourselves,
To be the strongest and the best,
We are told to be the perfect hero.

In this day and age, it is never really okay to make mistakes, even if they say it is.
We have a drive within us that being the best and the strongest is our only option.
We put the pressure on ourselves to be the Beowulf, which only causes us to wake up the Grendel.

But the real problem is, we are ashamed of that.
We are ashamed of fear, which causes us to act out and create evil.
But when you think about it, what is bravery without fear.
Because the truth is, no one is ever going to be one-hundred percent a Beowulf.

All of us have a little Grendel inside, it’s called being human.
We yell, we scream, we scare each other,
We lie, we cheat, we judge.
We are vicious and hurtful with our words.
At times, we see no light in our hearts,
We let evil win.
We are often so far from perfect.
In fact, the Grendel in me is sometimes more prominent than the Beowulf,
But we have to realize that sometimes, that’s okay.

You see, if not for the Grendel in me, the Beowulf wouldn’t know it’s true strength.
For the Beowulf in me, within all of us, would not fight nearly as hard, because it would have nothing to overcome.
The point isn’t to be ashamed of the Grendel within,
The point is to keep pushing through so the Grendel doesn’t win.
Do not isolate yourself and hide away in the depths of darkness when you can’t seem to find the light.
Find the Beowulf within yourselves,
Embrace it’s fierce loyalty and drive to destroy evil.
Welcome the light within you,
If you do that, you will win the war within yourself.

To all those out there desperately trying to be the hero:
Accept that losing the battle sometimes is okay,
Try your best to win the war,
But do not take on that army alone,
Because the person who fights with no one by their side is bound to lose eventually.

Because how can you be a hero, when you have no one by your side?

I’m just sick of people not appreciating me

I do everything I can to make someone feel like they are doing great
And I never get that in return
I smile to them and I talk to them
I tell them they are amazing
I encourage them

And I get nothing in return.
Am I worthless? Why don’t people care about me? I try my best. Why isn’t that enough? I just want to be appreciated by someone.

Nostalgia nostalgia darling what are you doing to me
Nostalgia nostalgia you’re forcing me to see
The times where I lost myself but got back up again
The times where I had some stupid fun with all my friends
Nostalgia nostalgia you’re very very cruel
Nostalgia nostalgia you take me back to middle school
The moments where I got made fun of for the dumbest things
The moments where I found myself playing into all those games
Nostalgia nostalgia you get worser with age
Nostalgia nostalgia you put me in a cage
I don’t know how the time has passed but you bring it back quite well
In rushes of adrenaline with stories I long to tell
Nostalgia nostalgia I don’t mean to be rude
Nostalgia nostalgia you put me in the weirdest moods
I love you though with all my heart cause you force me to see
The memories I’ve shared and the hills I’ve beat
So thank you nostalgia for coming back today.
In a time where I thank my God and bow to pray.
For the life I’ve lived so far is amazing to see.
Nostalgia nostalgia thank you for doing this to me.

It’s annoying.
It’s hard.
Takes your pride away.
But if you wanna be happy.
You have to do it.
Forgive.
Because when you look back in your life at the end.
That fight will probably be trivial.
And you will feel stupid and full of regret.
Forgive.
Because in the end all that matters is knowing you did things for love, not out of hatred and bitterness.
So forgive.

Pain in my chest,
I wish I could feel nothing.
I know it sounds bad,
But you’d get it if you could feel what I’m feeling.
Pain in my mind,
Because everything seems wrong.
I just want to be myself again,
Because then I’d be happy.
I’d smile everyday, like I used to,
But now I just imagine the worst and need to hide.
Hide away in my room,
in my own sad, little, imaginary world, where everything is perfect, especially me,
Pretending to be someone I’m not.
The worst part of that though,
That’s when I’m happiest,
When I imagine being someone else.
But it helps, hiding in my own little world. Listening to that kind of depressing music,
Relating to the pain of others.
It helps, ya know?
Knowing that you’re not alone,
I guess that’s why I’m writing this.
I hope you know you’re aren’t alone.

I want help, I need help,
But I don’t know how to get it.
I tell my parents,
I ask to see someone,
They say yes,
And then I wimp out.
I say I’m fine,
I hide, and I lie.
Maybe cause I’m afraid, or maybe because I’m just lazy.

Everyone just thinks I’m emotional.
And yeah maybe I am,
But I’m also struggling.
I cry so much because I feel so much.
Some things make me snap,
It’s like I lose control of my body.
I want control back,
I want it so bad.
I want to be happy.
God can I be happy?
What’s the point of all this?
What is life for I don’t get it?
Why do we have emotions?
What is happening?
Why do I dream of my own funerals?
Why do I dream of other family members funerals?
Do I want attention?
Do I want sympathy?
Maybe.
Or maybe I just want to know that somebody cares.
Do you ever feel like no one cares about you?
You give and give,
and they just take and take.
I have that feeling at least everyday.
At the end of the day though,
I have nothing left to give.

Pain in my chest
I wish I could feel nothing
I know that sounds bad
But you’d get it if you could feel what I’m feeling.

I’m a choke.

I make a mistake and I lose it
I ****
But I don’t actually ****
My brain just *****

I’m actually really really good
But a lot of people don’t see that
Because when I’m in front of people everything  is the end of the world for me
I choke

That makes me depressed
Cause I try not to care what people think about me
But ******* I care more than anyone

I am the opposite of a thick skinned person
You judge me
and I break.

I wish people would stop relating my severe anxiety to being a teenager.

I struggle with a lot of things,
But nothing ever seems to be as bad as change.
I like what I like, or at least I like what I had.
Ever since I’ve grown up, life just seems to make me mad.
I miss my home, I miss my friends.
I miss my parents, and I miss my bed.
Everyone always wants to grow up so fast,
But looking back, I wish I could have made it last.
As my anxiety starts creeping in,
I exclaim Dear Lord let me be a kid again.
I know going home will only help temporarily,
The quickest way to fix this feeling inside of me, is facing it head on with the little light left inside of me, will someone please find the key?
Look, you gotta understand that life can’t always be easy,
It has to kick you around every once in a while to show you the meaning.
But keep your feet on the ground, your head on the clouds, and give a piece of your heart to the loved ones that will protect it.
It’s going to be alright darling.
You are going to be okay.
Life works itself out, but you gotta stick around long enough to find out.

What hurts the most?
Not being hurt by a person you barely know,
Or a person you know has it in them to hurt you.
No, that’s not what hurts the most.
What hurts the most?
Being hurt by someone who is the last person you would expect it from.
Your best friend.
One minute you two are inseparable for what seems like an eternity.
Then things change suddenly but also really slowly, barely noticing all the little things.
Until they pile up.
My best friend has been weird lately, only to me.
Barely acknowledges my presence.
Is rude.
Would prefer to be and talk with other people that aren’t me.
Am I not cool enough for her?
Is she desperate for others to like her?
I don’t know.
I’ll I care about knowing is what happened to my best friend.
Because as a person who has been hurt a lot, I’ve never been broken like this.
As a person who has made the poor decision to rely on her best friends for happiness.
I’m crushed.
So what happened to my best friend?

Be real.
Great writing with structure and beautiful vocabulary is a true gift.
I think I have it,
but sometimes I don’t care.
Because that’s not the most important part of writing.
The most important part of writing is to be raw.
To spill your true and honest emotions.
To move your untouched thoughts directly from your brian to a piece of paper.
Fake writing helps no one,
Lying to be great, only makes you worse.

So do it.
Let your brain run free.
Stop caring about the results.
Just focus on how you feel in that moment.
Let it all out.
Because that’s what helps people. Honesty. Truth. Being raw.

I wanna **** myself

That’s a scary statement right?
It usually is to me too.
Not right now
Right now I just wanna die
It seems easier

There’s something wrong with me
I’m ****** up in my head
People tell me I’m moody,
They say I’m over emotional,
That I have a bad temper and a short fuse
But they don’t realize I have no control
The littlest thing can set me off
And I don’t know why

I just wanna **** myself
I wish a truck would just crash into me
Then maybe people would feel bad for me
They wouldn’t just say aw she’s crazy
I just wanna die

But

I’m too ******* lazy
Cause what if I fail at that too?
Then it’s a whole thing and im stuck in this hell hole expect now my parents would be up my *** ever further than they already are.

Something is so wrong with me

My brain is ****** up.

I’m such a fake

I claim to be this happy person

But every little thing sets me the *******

My friends all have a friend they like more than me

I’m not cool

I’m the broad chubby ugly girl with a sense of humor no one gets

I hate my life

Nothing makes me happy anymore

So I put my headphones on and shut out the world.

It’s easier that way,
And less work than killing myself.