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Who Cares? (standard:other, 878 words)
Author: AAAAAAAhhhhh check it outAdded: Jan 09 2005Views/Reads: 1897/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
It's about some chick's life who cares but not really.

INTRODUCTION Some people think my life is so easy, but I think easiness
is relative. I feel that my life is the hardest thing ever, but then 
again, there are worse things that could happen to me in it. For 
instance, I could be a druggie or get bad grades in school. But the 
thing is, each person’s life seems so hard to him or her until they 
actually live someone else’s life, and that’s not even possible. So 
no one will ever really know what an easy or hard life is, because we 
can’t judge other people’s lives without living them ourselves. We 
can never know really how hard or easy someone’s life is until we 
experience ALL that they do, because no one knows everything about 
someone’s life and all the feelings they feel and all their 
heartaches and joys, unless they are themselves. I guess what I’m 
trying to say is, no one should ever be able to judge a person by 
simply looking at them or even just by being around them a lot. There 
is always a different story when you get under the skin. 

Who Cares? Alright, I’ll admit, when you first look at me, you see
goody goody little church girl starving for intelligence and guidance 
from her parents. Which quite ironically is actually about the opposite 
of me, but hey first impressions are always the most memorable, huh? No 
matter how you act after you know a person, they will always remember 
how you were at first, when you were being cautious and not really 
saying or doing anything out of line because you didn’t know how 
they’d react to it if you did. Even my name, Ruth, is biblical! So my 
first impression is always the same. So what! At least I’m honest 
afterwards. I’ll let the people who are like me know who I really am, 
but otherwise, no one gets beneath that church girl layer. No one 
actually knows how my home life is because no one ever comes to my 
home. Everyone thinks it must be perfect just because I don’t 
complain about it, right? That’s how it always is, but maybe I’m 
just not complaining about it because I don’t want to lay bare the 
disorganized, hurtful mush my life really is. I don’t want everyone 
feeling sorry for me or even knowing why I’m ACTUALLY so quiet. Or 
hell, maybe I just don’t like complaining. 

I’m not trying to turn into one of those people who talks to their
journal in their entries like it’s a real person, so I’m just gonna 
pretend that my audience is the world, anyone who will listen; because 
maybe that’s who I’d like my audience to be. But no one wants to 
listen to a girl who never talks. No one could hear me unless I had 
something worthwhile to say and considering I have no real friends, 
there is no one to care or sympathize with me. I’m not saying I want 
pity, but considering no one would listen to me but out of pity, maybe 
it’s what I should want. A simpler explanation is this: since I made 
no friends to begin with in this life of mine, no one has even started 
to care for me in any way and no one wants to hear someone talk about 
their crap life unless they actually care about them. So if I were to 
start telling my story now, it would be blown off. It doesn’t even 
matter. I guess my life isn’t worth anything anyhow, right? I would 
talk to a wall to have some company; my parents don’t know I exist 
unless they’re busy using me as a human stress reliever; I really 
don’t have any friends; I’m pathetically talking to my journal; 
although I try to pretend I don’t need anyone, everyone needs 
someone; and I’m mad at God if he even exists. How could I be so 
unlucky as to have been stuck with this life? Yeah, God supposedly gave 
us free will and this I understand, but my free will did not include 
the family I was put into. And it wasn’t Satan that put me in this 
family, so no one can blame him either. All the bad things that happen 
to me are the result of the choices of someone else. Of course it’s 
from my parents bad choices, but why do I get punished because of them? 
No, it was God. He is ultimately the culprit. Ya know, I would rather 
have lived my life under complete control of God and had a good life 
than to have lived under the will of myself and live like I do. See, 
Christians don’t understand me because there is nothing they can say 
to me that will make me believe that God doesn’t suck. Non-Christians 
don’t like me because I don’t act “bad” enough for the likes of 
them. I might as well be a Christian to them but that I am resentful 
against God. And other groups and religions don’t like me because I 
think they’re stupid for believing in the things they do and also for 
the fact that I DO believe in God, I just don’t like him. 


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