I am sad. I am sad at the grocery store, I am sad waiting for the light to turn green, I am sad feeling, I am sad seeing, I am sad being... I AM SAD.

I wake up... like I do every morning... in the same bed, in the same city, in the same room, to live the same life. This fake life that I am living, it's so fake, it's fake... I get out of bed and check my agenda, to see what I have to do today, or... what I am aspiring to do, to be, those empty promises I make to myself everyday, hoping that the next day I'm gonna wake up to this perfect life where I always eat healthy, wake up earlier and where I AM HAPPY. Fake.

I put on make-up, do my hair, pick up the most incredible outfit from my old wardrobe, and pretend it was much more expensive than it actually is, because nobody can know I got it from a local store, on sale. That is what I have to do everyday, make up prices for things so that I don't seem poor, save money so I can finally buy those ADIDAS shoes eveybody has, so that I can be like the others, another way to drown myself in the crowd, to melt in with everybody, to fade, to dilute, to be a clone of every girl in my highschool, girls that I don't even like, but hey... they are popular, people like them, THEY KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING, so I have to do the same thing, if I want to be accepted, liked, to be good enough. Fake..., my "good enough" is fake, I am fake. My friendship with them popular kids is fake, they are fake, what they do is fake. But I can't tell that. To nobody. I have to watch my mouth and my thoughts every single second, because they can destroy me and everything I know, like that... I am hurt, and I am sad, I am not happy like that, but hey... I just wanted people to like me, I just wanted to be... cool. And now, they do, so why? Why in the world do I feel so sad? Why am I so sad still?

Because it is FAKE. My popularity is fake, people are fake complimanting me, my friendship with them is toxic, IT IS FAKE. So yes... I am sad, surprise, right? You would not expect someone like me to cry in the shower everynight, to overthink every look, every glance, every opinion, and every word she receives, to write about what she is feeling cause she can't talk to no one. But she is popular, she has so many friends, why can't she talk to neither of them? Well, cause those are strangers honey, those are ghosts. The shadows she sees every night crawling from the balcony and fillling the room, begging her to write all night, without sleep, to write those sad things happening to her every day... those are more realistic than her "friends". It is ok, she can just cover the bags underneath her eyes with make-up... so easy.

" But she is so happy. She always looks gorgeus, she is smart, she has everything, she is always laughing, how can she be sad?".. People say that about her as she is heading home, to her one-room apartament, living with her grandma, staying up all night to study so that she could pass the class, laughing cause of her sadness.

She's been working so hard on those fake things, fake friendships, fake grades, fake fun, fake life, and now she is finally on top of things, she owns what she always wanted, she leans on people's opinions still, she's not herself, she's fake... but that was the goal. You may think she's got really really bad luck if I told you, but with in world is her life so miserable still?

Well cause...

Now she is popular,... but she is sad.

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