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Nobody knows the real me. Nobody knows how many times I’ve sat in my room and cried, how many times I’ve lost hope, how many times I’ve been let down. Nobody knows how many times I’ve had to hold back the tears, how many times I’ve felt like I’m about to snap but don’t just for the sake of others, how many times I’ve felt like running away. Nobody knows the thoughts that go through my head whenever I’m sad, how horrible they truly are. Nobody knows me, and thats what I hate the most.

Every pop-punk artist in any situation:  I'm too emotionally distraught for this. I'm going to write a song.