In the distance, I can hear people calling me names. Is there anything one would ever do in this life to never get criticized for it? No matter what you do, there would always be people out there that would have something negative to say about it. The minds of humans are one thing that people can never be in control of. Some people have their minds rigged from what the mind of the majority is presumed to be like.

Even when the majority see something a certain way, they would most likely see it in another way. Still, some people say this is the beauty of being humans; our ability to think differently and act differently makes us special. This means we are different in certain ways, and our difference means that we are unique. But sometimes, you take certain actions that you believe you did for the common good of all, yet those you take that action for end up misunderstanding you. It starts with them saying all manner of very bad kinds of stuff about you.

These people would say many kinds of stuff that might not even be possible to be presented in prints. They fail to see things the way you do; they fail to see the good in that very action that you decided to take. Perhaps, the action you took might not be the best out there, but you had your reasons, and sometimes, the reasons are even baseless. The truth is that some people are in certain ways, not because they made themselves that way, but because their environment made them so. They grew up finding themselves in an environment that is fashioned in a certain way; they live their life that way, and in the end, people call them really bad names for living their lives how they had grown to learned to do. In my own case, they called me names. They called me names that I hated to even think about. They called me names like UGLY, YOU'RE WORTHLESS, YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE ALIVE, COMMIT SUICIDE, and many others which I wouldn't like to talk about. Hearing people I had grown to love saying these mean things to me felt so bad. I felt really very disappointed at first, yes, I really do, but with time, I think I stopped expecting anything reasonable from them, other than what I had always gotten from them, which was the name-calling and the mean things which they were saying to me. I took every one of those words into my heart, to my soul; I carry on like an empty gas tank with a smile painted on. This didn't mean that I grew to like what they said to me; no, nobody ever likes to be mistreated. There was something that made me swallow everything. I didn't discover this earlier enough.