Strong? From that word, where am I? Not in any letter. So why do people think I'm strong? Physically? No. I starve myself because of what my fucking cousins joked to me when I was young. I choose to do hard things—things that would push myself to my limits to the point that I would throw up or even rethink of what I chose. Ah but maybe mentally? No. Mentally? I never thought of my mental health. Why? Because I always felt that it would not be worth it to share, to vent, to be heard. That's why it's always piled up. But why is it that I always smile. I don't know. Maybe it's the fear that they will notice. Maybe it's the fear that they will look at me, jugding me that I'm doing all of this to myself. "But you always express yourself joyfully" that's what you think. Are you really just going to believe on what you see day by day on someones outside?