This life is a lie

     I am not happy with this life. I am always lonely and wishing for more from the world around me yet I never find what i am searching for. The American dream I was brought up to believe in was always a lie. To have no friends living near, even just to sit and do hand crafts as a group. I have never really had that for more than a week at a time. I am tired of the lies that money and purchased goods will make me happy. They will in the short term but what I really want, what I have been dreaming about since childhood is having a group of people to hang out with, play games with, to do crafts with, to run off into the forest and make up a game on the spot. No fancy coat or necklace will ever fill that need. That way madness lays and all will end in depression.