When one is happy, how come it just gets taken away? When something good happens, why does something else have to blow up in your face? Why can't I just be above all this, and not let it get to me? Why do I care, so much? There are times where I wish I didn't. There are many times where I wish I can rise above it. I want to know why I turn into a fetus in one corner of the room.

I tend to show only two people my feelings, but I never could give a reason why. The reasons why I could not give a purpose is because they seem only lilliputian or I'm just blowing it out-of proportion by letting my emotive take the best of me. I often believed I had a good reason to my conduct; and I often believe people are better off not knowing me, since I'm only a mistake, or poison.

Everyone meets situations different than others, I tend to take it more emotionally, than I wished logically. Am I considered a frail person?

Many others, friends mainly, have said that I'm "strong," "brave," or "courageous." Would they think me differently if they really seen my internal face?

I can only escape to dreams. Dreams, they too, seem to be poison when escaped into blindly. They could hurt you by letting you back into this mundane reality. Letting the dysphoria sometimes get to you.

I don't think I could ever be "sane."