Butterflies can’t see their own wings. They can’t see the intricate patterns and delicately painted colors. They don’t know that they’re beautiful. People are kind of like that too.
Friend: Hey what's wrong? You seem quiet.
Mind: I'm insecure, I'm slacking in my classes, All my "friends" are fake, I'm restless and tired and hopeless. I dread getting out of bed in the morning. I start crying out of the blue, I'm worthless, hopeless, and I can't take it anymore. No one seems to notice though.
Me: *puts on a smile*Nothing, sorry just tired lately, no big deal.