Curiosity killed the cat. That's the best way to describe me. I'm killed numerous times by my curiosity. People tend to have the obsession to observe. I'm one of those people. I hurt people because of this. That's why I'm a failure, a failed child born out of mistake. I hurt my family and I hurt my friends. Experience tells me to stop, but emotions are stronger and tell me to keep going. Eventually I'll die because of this. I'll die from depression, sadness, the feeling of being rejected by someone. Failures do that, and I'm one of them. Sometimes guilt and curiosity are a bad mixture. Curious of something that isn't your affair and you'll be guilty for the consequences of your actions. I wonder if that's why I close myself to this world. I wonder if this is why I hide in a mask. My family truly loves me, but I can't feel their love. No, I don't desire it. I desired friendship in the beginning of my existence. That was something I was never really good at: to make friends. I guess that's why I'm such an outcast in social life. And if I get to close to someone, they end up hating me the next time I see them. Is this why I'm being hated? I feel so different from everyone, like I'm some sort of a monster to everyone. Why do I feel like this? I'll never understand. I do know one thing though. Curiosity will eventually kill me.
