a lot of you actually don't know why i do what i do. why i laugh when i laugh, and why i cry, when i cry. why i smoke, why i look the way i do, why i have these bruises on my face and speckles on my skin. why i don't expect more from people, why i doubt, why i believe, why i rise in the morning. i could just write it all here. my entire story. but what would be the point? i suppose, i've learned not to give out everything i have. i need proof, proof that it's worth it.