When's the world going to change?

I’ve got no idea what the source of my problems is, but I want the world to know that it’s so trivial, and since people don’t want to change because of it, I’m tempted to make a photo of myself at the shore or somewhere sad, and have it say, “Forgiveness from others is like the other shore; it can’t be seen, and may never be reached”. As I sit here, hurting, I think about the nonexistence of people’s forgiveness towards me. As I’m tempted to death to hurt myself, I remember that there might be a place called forgiveness, which I can call home... that's when I can go to sleep