How?

The world is eerily quiet tonight. I wish I had the courage to scream with all my might, but I am afraid of what people would think. I wish I could escape my own home and go someplace where I will finally find peace. I fail to find peace in school life. The place where you cannot seek harmony at all. I find my life so boring. So pathetic and un-exited. I have heard a lot of stories of mischief from my grandparents and my parents, and I wonder that so many eventful things happened in their life. So, will our generation grow old and have nothing to tell to the people? I don’t know. Maybe not everyone has a boring life. A lot of them have live filled with colour. A lot of them have all they want.

I don’t.

Why?

I don’t know. That’s the question, isn’t it? We do not know how to solve mysteries that seem strange. But some day, they come with an answer.

I know it doesn’t probably make any sense, but I have no other weird explanation.

Putting thoughts into words, isn’t as easy as you think it is.

What causes me to write such a non-meaningful blog is the fact that even with billions of people, I feel alone. Not that kind of alone, you know, sad or whatever. Just different. Alone. Single-handed. Like I have only one arm. Half my soul. That I am missing something really important. The thing I cannot see because I have only one eye. I feel broken apart and left alone.

Or… maybe it’s just night time. Night time affects my emotions.

I don’t know, honestly.

Everyone praises me and brags about me, like my family and stuff, but I think they are wrong. They are so happy when they say I am brilliant at studies, but I think I am going down, and I need to get up fast, they say I love reading and writing and that my blog is brilliant. I don’t agree. I do love writing and reading. That’s my life goal- having a library inside my house. Anyway, my blog isn’t that good, it hardly gets any views. And it’s not like I want to announce it to the world that I love reading. I feel like I am mean saying that. Even if my family says it.

‘Dream big’, they say. I do. ‘We know you’ll do some good. Someday.’ They say. I know a lot of people whose parents put them into high pressure for exams and all. But my parents don’t. But their pressure is more immense and it hurts. They expect me to be something that will make them proud.

And I want to do that. I swear, with all my heart. I want to.

But I don’t know how.

How?