Life is a breeeeeeze.

When you're upset about something, my family would NEVER ask you what's wrong. Heaven forbid. It seems that the family motto is, "One can find happiness without the help of others." 

They might ask each other, "What's wrong with her?" But they would never go to the extent of asking YOU what is wrong. They think that you will figure it out eventually. 

So I have to say that no, I have never had anyone in this family show any remote interest in how "badly" I was feeling today. Instead, the expected answer to the daily question, "How was school?", is always "Good." 

Just 'good.' 

And stress is a "poison" that one brings about to oneself. Never a "poison" you get from biting a poison apple. (But then again, why would one be eating strange apples, right?)

In the end, MY life is SUPPOSED to be breezy because I have NEVER suffered in the same way that my parents have when they lived in poverty. I have NEVER encountered days where I don't feel like getting up in the morning, or days where I can't seem to function. Because why should I? 

I have food. I get a ride to school. I own a laptop. I have luxury. So what's there to complain about? 

Hm.