Liar, liar

This, this, and this are posts I don’t like. People tell me they’re inspirational and whatever but the truth is that I wrote them because I had to not because that’s what I believe in.
Who says we’re diamonds? Are diamonds even worth anything? To me, they’re just pieces of broken glass. No one really knows the difference unless the examine it closely. So cares what’s what? Why do we care what they say to us? Who are they? Why do they need to tell us anything at all?

I wrote these because that’s what I felt people needed to hear. Positive stuff. Stuff that would make both them and me feel better, but that never happened.

I feel like a hypocrite. I feel like a liar. Because that’s what you are Julie. A compulsive liar and a cheat who’s way too insecure about everything around her

I lie about my name. My name isn’t Julie. I lie about my feelings. I do feel bad about whatever they say and I choose to pretend like I don’t. I tell people who have problems with others to talk it out because that’s the best solution and it is the best solution but I don’t follow it myself

I lie about my writing. This, this and this  are stuff I don’t even understand. A lot of my posts are quotes I find here and there which I like sharing. Most of the ideas in my stories aren’t even mine but the writing is. People ell me now that they like my writing and they’re proud of me and whatnot but I don’t feel like it. I feel like a fraud. Because you are one Julie. You cheat and lie to everyone and are probably the root of major misunderstandings among people. You’ve had this post typed up for days but you’ve never posted it because you’re a coward and a fool. You know that people who know you personally may read this and hate you after it. You know that they’re right, and they have no actual reason to like you. 

That’s right. I am. And I can’t keep it in me anymore. I don’t want to lie anymore. I even lie to myself. I tell myself that I’m not actually a cheat and his is part of everyone’s behavior. I tell myself that that I’m Julie and I’m smart and confident and honest when truthfully I’m dying internally.

I tell myself that I actually study hard enough but all I do is leave my book open in front of me for hours and hours. My parents believe in me as something I’m not. I’m not proud of myself and I hate myself for it.

I’m not ever proofreading this post because I know I’ll delete it and go back to being basic bitch Julie. Instead want to stop lying. I’ going back to my original blog name: Everything and nothing. I’m blogging with my real name: Neha 

I’m sorry if this post doesn’t make sense. I’m sorry if you fond it funny, or over-dramatic, or just plain old stupid. I’ve been absolutely miserable with anything I’ve done here and its high time I change that.

A small part of me is still scared. I might wake up tomorrow and regret this. I might continue writing like I used to and feel miserable again. I don’t know and well, I don’t care

Q: What’s worse? Ignorance or apathy

A: I don’t know and I don’t care

That’s it. I really hope I don’t regret this tomorrow.





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