In our shattered times, anguish relents
Not at mere idle words spoken in vain,
But rather from the silent eloquence
Bestowed by those rare souls who share our pain.
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All my life I have know that I am different. I have trouble with my thinking and processing information. I have trouble in keeping close friends. I am afraid of living, and I don't really know why. I am good at pretending everything is all right, by just gritting my teeth and just charging ahead and getting through the rough spots, but inside I am afraid of failure and getting critized for things I do. I am hoping someone can help me, or at least understand me.
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