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

who needs life when you've got batch bowls?

i do believe that the time is coming. it seems to be unavoidable and my mind returns to the thought of it on a daily basis.

i am always thinking about ending my pathetic fucking life. to finally prove that which has already been shown: i am very disposable.

this world will continue to spin and turn.

buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

maybe whatever i had was real love. it feels like it to me. perhaps i am truly insane at this point, far beyond measure, beyond the ability to heal and continue to build these very flammable bridges.

these bridges that continue to burn alongside those buildings, everlasting even. these bridges of course being my futile attempts to exist, i.e. relationships, friendships and aspirations.

i mean, what is the point? what is the point of any of it when i can pump nicotine and marijuana into my system as much as i possibly can?

whats the point when you've got batch bowls?

i dont want to see beyond that, for there is not a thing for me in the future. i am to die unexpectedly, or i suppose very much expectedly if you have been keeping up with me here, as to put to rest this issue.

that issue being of course, me. my existence, my being. my pain and that crippling weight on my shoulders. that which i can no longer carry. of course, this was inevitable.

we as individuals can only handle so much. i am awaiting the end, when i may be able to sit for a moment and rest. when, maybe, just maybe, this weight will cease to exist. maybe.

i need to reach that reality, sooner now than ever. i am unable to continue functioning the way i do. i am beyond change, beyond repair. the world has given up on me, as i have given up on the world.

so let me go, forget me. i was hardly here anyways.

buildings burn, people die, but real love
is forever.