Saddest truth about reality.
The saddest truth about reality is the act that we the people don’t know the true me. They themselves run around unsure if their lives are truly bound. “who am I?” is often asked A burden to all, an impossible task. I ask myself and answer in lies I have no really true alibi. I may be that I may be this, but the me to me and the me to you is never in true bliss. Gay, straight, lesbian, bie, You don’t know me, and neither do I, Fat ,thin,pretty or ugly none of us know the true undefined me. I have to find myself without the opinions of you, but without that guide I couldn’t really know the truth. Yet in that comes another thundering wave, because its just your thoughts, a different Ashley, a different way I behave. I am Ashley to him, her, them , and they, Who am I to you a goth, a prep, someone to help you on a bad day? A fighter, a lover, an artist, a poet? Am I the only one not to know it? A bitch, a rocker, a best friend, a worst enemy? All opinions lost inside of me. The Saddest Truth about reality, is that not many can look in the mirror and say “I know me.”
