People always come to me for help. People always come to me with their problems, and say, "Help me. Understand me." Maybe, I'd like to be understood for once. Maybe I'd like for someone just to listen. Just for ten minutes. Maybe then you can hear the quiet screams emulating from my sparkling laugh. Maybe you'll catch a glimpse of the guilt and hurt and hatred in my eyes. And maybe, just for one second, you'll realize that I'm not okay.