Words of a teenage escapist.

You know those really dramatic and moving scenes from movies where the mom is so depressed about something and starts crying and her daughter rushes in to find her in that state and then immediately goes to her side to comfort her and and say soothing words to make her feel better and then the both of them have a moment?

Yeah, that doesn't actually happen in real life. You know what happens instead?

Girl comes in to find her mother, tired and broken and teary. Sits beside her awkwardly, not knowing what to do, and then finally settles on listening to her mother drone on and on about how miserable and depressing her life is and why'd I end up like this? Atmosphere is too uncomfortable to do anything but stay still and let her mother's words penetrate her and the girl starts to wonder whether things will finally get better or if they'll actually become worse.

And then she just wants to scream at the top of her lungs.

Happiness is no longer an option nor a choice, it's a fucking attempt at pretending that things are okay, even though they're obviously not. I'm done with this. Done with acting. Done with pretending. Done with thinking that some things actually matter.

Because someday, my hope for the future will die before I can even have a future.