Bloody Hell...

That's one of the words that come to me when I think what I was going to write right now. The other one is "I'm getting tired" but I think I have used that as a title already, so I won't use it in that sense. But I will use it a lot...again. So far, this sounds like a metha-story. A story about the bloody story (yeah, I like how bloody sounds, God bless britains). Anyway, what is the point on writing so anyone can see what you think, even when all you write about is just trouble and distress? Probably that's why I have too much readers. I'm just like a sunshine, full of flowers and candies.Well, If someone has read this blog, probably would know how things work. Been years and trials, medicine, prayers. And right now I have some strange conclusions....I have alienated myself...no one is alienating me, and, if that was the case, it could be just my fault. I still feel that people questions and judge me, everytime someone asks me about my life, I need that I have to give stupids reasons, even lies, about my laboral-academic situation. "Oh yes, and what are you doing since school?....How do you procure yourself a living?"... It is true...I shouldn't have to give explanations of my life to anyone...but in the practice, I just feel ashamed...yeah, ashamed. The worst part is that, if I'm ashamed of what I do, it implies that I'm also ashamed of what I am. I'm ashamed of what I feel, ashamed of having a permanent fear to lose what and who I love. Ashamed of being the cause for the grief of those who care for me...

I'm ashamed and tired of my envy, my jealousy, my stupidity, my sadness, my neverending grief, my selfishness, the lack of love to myself. In just a few words: I'm tired of myself...Now, I think that is pretty much obvious why I am alone and misunderstood.