Tiras-me o sono

Why?
Why the hell do you think you can mess with me like this?
Photography was my thing, blogging was my thing, English was my thing...
Why on earth do you think you can enter my world and damage it all? All the beauty, all the "right and wrong", all of the certainties are just turned around by some little person who had so very little to worry about on her own life that (surely) felt the need to mess with others.
And yet, You don't even know me.... Isn't it ironic?
You judge me, you criticize me, you gossip, you opine about issues that you don't have to, you fell the pain more poignantly than even the person who should be felling it, and yet... you don't even know meet me for Chrissake.
If you're reading this (which I doubt), please don't translate it on Google Translate, it's lame and it doesn't work. Believe me. Ask him to do it for you.
That's the first point, second:

I've asked him to tell you this, but I know he won't. I don't blame him, so I'm gonna tell you myself (or at least tell/convince myself that I'm telling you):

You know nothing about me.
What you think you know are just reflexes, just some fucking reflexes. Broken and sharpen pieces that are left being after a fight. That is not me, that's the anger, the sadness, the despair, the anguish...
I'm just this nineteen-years-old girl who's still trying to figure herself out, who has just a few certainties in her life but who does the best she can with the little she got.
So please, be a grown-up, prove to me (and the world in general) that you're a good, intelligent and kind person and stop judging me for those broken pieces. I'm willing to give you a try, because I HATE being hated,  especially when I KNOW I'm being misjudged.

Mind your own business and stop trying to tell a thirty-years-old man what to do, it's stupid, lame, childish and above all, it's ineffective, purely INEFFECTIVE.


*