You Know, I Once Wrote the Better Part of A Post On Lies

But today, I'm not going to complete it. I just want you to remember something they told us as kids. Remember when we all thought our parents would always stay together and we'd never have our hearts broken and none of us would ever turn to drugs or alcohol and we'd all be good looking and intelligent and in no way end up like those homeless people who we would see when we went to the city? We were taught this. We were taught, one way or another, that the world was nigh-on-perfect.

It used to be people with problems weren't the norm. That fucked up was quite the strange expression, and not because of the vulgarity, but because we didn't need such a phrase. We didn't have big problems when we were little, and no one would tell us about it. There's good reason for that: why end the fun early?

Everyone knew it would end, except for us. Our parents knew we'd have terrible events in our lives, so they had us live idealistic lives as long as we could. But look what it's like now? Family members with cancer, dead relatives, drugs, alcohol, oppression, hate, and I'm only exposed to the worse elements by friends. I honestly can't imagine what it's like to live the lives some people I know do. I respect them forever for what they soldier through. Some people deal with parents who hate them, violent parents, the ones who're never there, all kinds of terrible things.

It's hard to talk about these things. It is, really. I live a much better life than I could, I recognize that. As do a lot of people. The problem is some people won't admit that they have a need for support.

We have each other. We're here for each other. I'm nothing more than a crutch for you to lean on. Remember that, people. And don't praise me. Everyone has, at some point or another, been the crutch. You just need to remember to do so.

The sad part is that such an object as a crutch is necessary. (Not the physical object. The metaphor.) I mean, fuck. Look at all the shit people have to deal with. It's fucking heartbreaking. There's a reason you see so many people dealing drugs at high school. Because it's a violent climax for all that shit. And it just fucking strikes us, with hardly a warning in middle.

I wish I could write more. But what's the fucking point? All of you, each and every one, has dealt with shit. I may even have /been/ part of that shit for a time, and for that, I'm sorry. You all know what I'm talking about. That one thing that just makes you cry, whether it's over a lover, or someone dead, or hate and oppression, or someone who, as a result, you can't help but wish was dead. Maybe it's regret at something you did once, in the heat of the moment and the utter unpreparedness we all share when faced with said shit. Maybe it's something else destroying you from inside, or maybe it's something outside. I don't know, I can't know, because I have my own problems, luckily, I got off fucking lightly.

I'll happily be your crutch, however, because I know each and every one of you will now drift back to that piece of shit ruining your life.

And remember how I told you about that post about lies? That first bit /was/ the lie. That hopeless idealism that those in charge of us instilled in us. They painted the world a bright shade of yellow and told us it was golden. Fucking lying bastards. It's only now I've come to realize that that bright yellow was nothing other than the hateful bastards ruining people's lives pissing on the goddamn world.

Fuck it all.