I have bee through what others seem to say tragedies, however, I could not image being so small minded as many are, without pure struggle of existence. The bad things are what toughens your skin and soul. It broadens your mind and ambitions. It moves you. There will be bad but, the good is ******* good.

I know others live worse than I, but in todays society I cant help but long for the picture perfect family ideal. A mom and a dad together, and a happy kid. It seems that all my parents and I are now are distant friends who can make a little time to visit every now and then.
And my grandparents do the best they can in which I am forever thankful for, but it does not fill the hole that is the ideal of togetherness, reliability and loyalty.

My hair needs to be a beautiful color, and my cheekbones need to sparkly.
My eyeshadow needs to be the best and my clothes as well.
My lipstick must be matte or some crazy color no one else would do.
Im not this desperate though, why must i follow?
Why do I?

It feels as if the vibration of the guitar strings that I strum balances out the shakiness of my hands,
What they say is true about the euphoria of music, the fuzzy feeling is better than ***.