Most of my friends don't know me. Not to mention my own family. I mean... When I think about it longer, I realize that no one knows me, like at all.
I discovered that fact after publishing "The notes from the abyss" when some people started looking at me with this weird look and asking strange questions. It was shocking, however, explained a lot.
The funny thing is the only people on this planet who have any idea who I really am are the readers who bought "The Notes..." or "Guide for (Ultimate) Losers."
At some point, this situation is my fault, because it is the evident manifestation of the two worlds I have been writing about: I was focused on building the world No 2 that, in fact, is something unreal, some fake I created believing that it would ensure me people's love and attention because the world No 1 is the reason to be ashamed of.
But! At some point, this situation is not my fault. It was coerced by others - my family in the first place and my 'educators' from school times. Later on, I had this misfortune to meet 'friends' who had been forcing me to be someone else too. My struggle and pain were inconveniences.
I was always afraid (and many people had been telling me so) that once I'd open up and be me, nobody would like me. I then didn't know that being 'liked' is not the most crucial thing in this world and that being real me means the chance for meeting persons who could like me for real.
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