i have endured. [the story of nobody at all]

individuality, such bullshit.

unfortunately i am still here. still breathing amongst the rest of you. ideally this is not where i should be, for i would much prefer to not be breathing right now.

i would much prefer it actually if i could just die now, when i at least have some inkling of an idea as to what my life even meant in the first place: nothing.

but, like i previously mentioned, i am still here and suffering evermore. i cannot leave. i feel locked in place here, locked by those who see potential in my future. held tightly against my will by those dreams that others have for my tomorrow.

but me? i just want to be gone already. my life ceases to have purpose. meaning. happiness. i do not want to feel this way anymore. i cannot even vocalize that to anybody. there is nobody.

not a single soul will listen and react reasonably. the concept of individuality is such a joke to me now. that we actually live for ourselves, that we are individuals.

so nonsensical that is. we do not live for ourselves, unless we are filled with the drive of that of a selfish individual. we live for other people. be it family, partner or friend, we stick around to maintain peace and stability in our world.

what we want, how we feel, that which we TRULY desire? that does not matter. we need to ensure that those we care about, those bound to us by blood especially, are kept safe from harm. harm that we would be placing upon them in our absence.

it is this concept, this reality, that keeps me here. i live not for me, but for others. to prevent others from feeling this way. i do not feel very selfless. i do not feel strong. i've no potential left. there is nothing left of me.

nothing except that part of me that holds onto everything that no longer is. i think that may be the only part of me that still lives. even then, this person is consistently being beaten down by reality.

but for how long? how long will i truly endure this? i suppose the answer will be clear when this written piece ceases to be updated.

i don't know if anybody will ever even find this. if anyone who knows me personally will ever read these words, knowing then how i felt up until the end of my life. i wonder about this endlessly, as everything i do and say feels so utterly and completely pointless.

that is the curse for a life without meaning, without purpose. i just wish that i could still be me. maybe then, this could have been prevented.

but who am i, really? if my current life can answer that, i am somebody who cannot even maintain a simple friendship, let alone hold onto those i care for the most. everybody leaves me because i am such a fucking mess. my mind just does not work properly, alongside my heart. i feel broken.

i am broken.

everything that should work properly, everything that i should be, i am not. not even close. i am invisible and irrelevant and pathetic and useless. i am everything that someone in my position should not be.

i am not worth the pain that will be felt by my family after my passing. i am not worth holding onto within memories. i am worth nothing more than something meant to be thrown aside, to be disposed of.

i am completely and utterly disposable.