You.
You have friends.
Compatriots who, despite your wear, tear, wrath, abuse, and jealousy, continue to be a source of shoulders, encouragement, and pats on the back.
A parent who pushes way to far and insults you. The tough love that forces you to prove them wrong.
Natural skills that I can never achieve. The skills that make you such a talented individual.
You have so many opportunities handed to you on a silver platter. You merely choose to not receive them.
Social skills and networking: knowing so many talented and skilled people. Guaranteed to succeed. You push them away, treating them like garbage.
Me. What do I have?
A privileged life, where I must push myself.
Money, which cause more problems.
A hardworking dad whom a barely ever get to see.
Talents I can never hope to achieve.
Skills that don’t matter.
No one I can truly confide in.
There are very few precious moments in everyone’s life. Mine’s are all tainted by yours.
Am I any more privileged than you?
About me
16/m/CanadaI write depressing poetry. I'm not a good artist. I love science, but not good at it. I play the euphonium. I enjoy surfing the web, but don't expect any updates about that. Don't drag me out of my comfort zone.
Don't be evil, or annoying.
