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I’m an optimist. But even I can tell. Our world is hurting; for some it’s living hell. People are blind to the truth. They say there are no absolutes. We’re living without hope, just trying to make it through.  
I am from cells, built together to make my mother’s uterus, If I wasn’t supposed to come out, then how did I,
don't tell me things about myself that i know are lies   don't say that i am not good enough when i know the truth   don't say that i am ugly when i can see clearly  
Is there anything out there for me? in a world of billions, what does it take to do something useful? to do something great?    i barely even know who i am or who i could be.
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