When I look at my life, I see how easy it is for people to be deceived by what they see. When they see me, they see a girl who is always happy, chirpy and loving. They see a girl who is adorable and beautiful and gets everything that she wants. They see whatever can be seen by the eyes of a human.
What they fail to see is how upset or dissatisfied or angry, I am from inside. They fail to see what all goes inside this head of mine. They fail to see the blackhole that engulfs me deep within every minute.
Sometimes, they do see that something is wrong. But all they ask is why am I upset? But I never am upset about a thing. I am never angry about something. I am just sad and angry and frustrated. But that doesn’t mean, I don’t feel happy or loved or loving. Sometimes I feel like my mind is a multiverse and it contains so many universe of its own.
Whatever phrases I use, however many adjectives, I will never be able to tell the difference between what I am and what I seem to be.