Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

Today, In my psych class, we wrote letters to the families, and students in Florida, because of the shooting that recently happened. 
I’d like to share one with you. 
—
Sometimes, I hold on to things I wish I could let go of.
And, sometimes, I like to blame myself for these things. 
Beauty in itself is a thing that no one can define. 
It’s some sort of voodoo that’s impossible to comprehend, yet we attempt to do I️t every day. 
The same goes with love. 
Any plausible feeling that I have had is such an enigma, that I couldn’t begin to scratch the surface of what I️t means to me. 
But you...
You’ve cracked the case. 
What that boy did that day was wrong, yes.
But I believe the beautiful part is that you had the strength to forgive. 
You had the strength to help one another when life itself dependent on I️t. 
Sometimes, I feel greedy. 
Sometimes, I want to die. 
But you...
You didn’t ask for this. 
Yet we take advantage of these “jokes” every day. 
“Kms” “I want to die” “I hate life”
As jokes. 
Many of my classmates write in ignorance, in the purest meaning of the word. 
Some write in sorrow. 
But I? 
I️m not quite sure. 
I write In opposition, you could say. 
Opposition to this terrible crime 
Opposition to the way everyone’s handing I️t 
And opposition to the way I️m handling I️t. 
I am so, utterly sorry.