I see beauty in things that no one else can see. Music, art, literature... and people. Especially people. The tragic thing is, though, is that they can't see it within themselves. So when I tell them what I see, they don't believe me. And when I tell them, they cover themselves in the darkest cloak of hatred and nastiness to drive me away. And I feel so... helpless... like I failed in them. I failed to help them help themselves. You have no idea how much that hurts.
I'm incredibly stressed out right now. Finals are next week and I'm NOT ready. Then, 5 days after my last exam, it's time for summer school. Why, why did I sign up for six more weeks of torture?