Sometimes you just need to write down to feel better. Maybe it’s also my case. Today I feel strongly down and tore apart from the rest of humanity. 
I don’t know how I came up with these thoughts. The cause could also be connected to my PMS situation as I’m utterly sensitive. 
But seriously, I don’t fucking understand people. And sometimes I feel like they don’t understand me. 
The only dearest people I have live somewhere else. And nobody in my stupid little village - and some people know I don’t go out - dare to ask me how I am or what I’m doing. Not even once a month. Nothing. 
There are days I fill my days talking with the dear friends I mentioned or other ones I met over the years thanks to roleplay. 
But other times… it’s fucking hard, you know? As you feel more and more that you live in the wrong place, surrounded by the wrongest kind of people. 
Maybe I always have an high consideration of the term friendship or maybe I’m too full of hope. Since last year I hoped to meet new people, make new friendships and go out again. I tried and I tried again. Obtaining no results. 
So I ask myself if the problem is me, if I’m terrible as person, or if the others simply don’t see things as me. 
And even the ones who seemed the most caring - and I precise I’m talking about people who live here as me - now seem not to give a fuck. They don’t reply to my messages, and there’s no chance to see them. So I feel like I’m the one pushing for something that is never going to happen. 
People = Shit for real. Slipknot were freaking right. 
End of my rant. 


Josephine Skriver in “Puglia in Love” by Dan Martensen
Elle Italia July 2014