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Don't Think of Giving Up So Easily.Never Give Up!
Jesus is by your side through the thick and thin.
Every minute, every hour, every moment.
Don't worry because Jesus is God and he is real.
He is our only true savior and idol, forever.
When I Feel Like I am Not Needed.Every time I am alone I feel like I am worthless.
I feel like no one care about me.
I feel like i am not needed in this world.
But After so many dreadful,horrifying,bad, and sad situations.
I realized I cannot let this get to me.
I am a person that is loved and will always be someone with a heart.
If I Never Give Up, I will always have a spirit within me.
Something That Needs to be said.Sometimes I really and truly think on the wrong side.
I think when people don't want to speak to me, they don't like me.
If they don't want to associate with me they don't like me either.
Every time...Every...TIME!!!! i get bullied or made fun of how I look or what i do or watch or WHATEVER. I feel bad on the inside.
Then I think, there are other people in this world that go through worse than me.
I wish no one would have to go through this, but they can't help of what they were raised by.
I sometimes cannot trust the majority of people I met or even on social media website and etc.
It Stink to be "Alone" all the time.
It is a bad and depressing feeling to have.
All teens go through it.
Sometimes I still have it.
It only happens at school when they make fun of me or whatever Bullies do the harass me or others on this Earth.
I wish it would stop already!
Its terrible and not satisfying at all.
All you are doing is hurting yourselves and others you made depressed for no reason.
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
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