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illusion. that's all i can call my kindness, an illusion. what do i have to be kind about? what do i have to compare to other people's problems? what can i say anymore that i'm sorry and i don't even know why! i don't want to be left out of the world, i don't want to be a shadow left to follow someone and then disappear, i want to live my own life and i don't even know if i can even call it my own!!! i don't even know my own feelings other than my anger and sadness. i don't truly know happiness or love or even hate, except for being hated. why do you hate me? is it because i have a greater understanding of the darkness? that i can even picture my own death, wish for it to come, knowing that it won't? do you hate me because i know what sadness waits for me day to day, and react to ensure it? when i smile, do you believe that it's a real smile, or just a mask that i put on so that you don't know what misery lies on my face when you hurt me? but then again, what feelings do i truly have? what feelings can i call my own? why am i even telling you this? because i am waiting for someone to know what i am truly feeling, because i am waiting for someone to lead me to the light i know for a fact will never show its face to me!