Hannah Brencher. If you find this letter ... How I found the meaning of life by writing hundreds of letters to strangers (№ 455911)

You see, at this moment I feel like lying to you. I want to show you the magical turning point as I rush through the streets of New York City with energy, cheerful anger, and whatever peppy epithets fit the sentence. I think it's the fault of the world that I want to draw such a beautiful picture for you. At the very least, I prefer to blame the world, which always manages to convince me that I should be flying on wings. If I am not immersed in the abyss of despair, I should soar. Prosper. Succeed. In fact, everything was fine with me. It's just okay. And every single day I tried not to let the little things piss me off. I was in a state in which if someone advised me to "become stronger", he would immediately get punched in the face. We don't get stronger when we want to. I think it's more than normal to wake up in the morning and just be "okay". Not "amazing". Not "this is the best day of my life." Life is harsh at times. And sometimes people deserve a lot of praise just because they managed to get out of bed.