Ever felt like no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, no matter what you overcome – you, really still just at square one? You think you, really moving forward but really you’re just painting a fake portrait. You are never a participant. You’re a fake and everyone knows it. You are the human counterfeit. They call you family but you are an Outsider. They say you’re their best friend but when you speak the truth – well you’re being hurtful. You’re patronized, distracted like a child, and surprised left and right into a bright hue of happiness – only to find a big pocket full of nothingness. You are never really part of any group. You’re a drifter, a tool for occasional use by people lucky enough to be really loved, and an afterthought for everyone else. And if you voice any of this – well you’re crazy or unfair or have a skewed point of view or just plain wrong. Because people can’t admit to how much you don’t belong. It’s embarrassing or inconvenient or bothersome or they just don’t care. In any case, you’re always shifting between pounding ruthlessly on that glass pane that separates you and Them and trying to break through, trying to get around the pane and finding it doesn’t end, refusing to acknowledge its existence, and just giving up. The pain of not being the right fit or not being good enough never really lessens. It just grows until everything good disappears and the gnawing hole in your heart is all you have left. I hate being an outsider. Wouldn’t you?