"There's nothing like stepping on stage,
into a sold out crowd,
of almost 16,000 people.
What Inpiries me to keep doing this everyday,
is the rush I get on stage...
it's absolutely..irreplaceable.
With almost two years of sobriety,
people think I have my life all together,
but infact, I'm just winging it.
It's easy for people to assume that everythings taken care of,
and that I'm always camera ready,
but I wake up everyday, like everyone else.
I have the same worries, and fears, that everyone does.
 I'm afraid of spiders, and being vulnerable in front of the world.
I'm still facing these obstacles and problems, that everyday people have.
People thought that I've got myself together,
but I'm actually still a working progress."


3. Why?

2 red apples, and 1 green apple are in a bag.

what do you have?

you have 3 apples.

but to the world, that green apple doesn't belong in that bag.

because it's different.

I flinched at the feeling of something light hitting me in the side of the head.

I didn't have to look down to know what it was, because I get one everyday.

a note.

slowly reaching down and picking it up, I unravelled the scrunched up item.


"is it hard to be so fat and pathetic? cause you seem to be awfully good at it :)"



I hated names.

but not because they hurt me, but because they cause what comes next.

the thoughts.

was I really THAT fat?


I didn't get it.

why can't we just be nice to each other?

why do we have to do the things we do, and say the things we say?

does it make us feel good about ourselves?

why should it?

how does knowing that you're a horrible person make you feel good?


"Mrs.Pier is that a note? we do not pass notes in this class." I could basically feel Mr.Craigs glare.


let him snatch away the paper, reopening it, and glancing over the letter written.

I saw his glare instantly fall into a look of pity.


"there will be no more of these notes passed or thrown in this classroom, do you hear me" he was met with a group of 'yeah's' and 'whatever's'.


why did god make the world like this?

why did he make people so angry and hateful?

I silently grabbed my bag, tossing it onto my shoulder and walking out of the room.

Mr.Craig’s protests being cut off by the slam of the classroom door.

I needed to get out of here, away from these people.

a place where I can forget everything for a little while.

a place where I can take away the pain without a blade.

a place where I can be myself.

and I knew exactly where that place is.












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