I need another story, something to get off my chest. My life gets kind of boring, I need something I can confess. With my sleeves I stained red, with the truths that I said...

I feel like a ghost in my own house on Thanksgiving Day. No one is talking to me, it really feels like I don't exist. It makes me wonder if I DO exist. I feel as if I left to my room, I wouldn't be missed. Maybe I just need attention. Why am I acting so strangely? Why am I feeling this way? I am tired, but I don't think that's why.