This isn't gonna end, is it? My life is going to drag on and on and on until I do something about it. Pain doesn't help. Tears don't, either. What does? That's the thing. Nothing. I've gone down hill. Really quickly, too. Don't ask questions, the very few who are going to read this. I'm tired. I'm over it. I'm tired of people making me feel like, for even a split second, I'm worth a damn. I'm over it. I'm over being tired of it. I want something new. A new place. A new friend who doesn't know how fucked up I am yet. Something. Anything, please. I can't sit here and say that my life sucks, because it doesn't. My life is pretty okay. I have a nice home, caring parents, great friends, but it's not right. I hate myself. I hate that there is something wrong with me. I hate that people are noticing. I'm sad. I've been sad for a really long time. But I hide it, don't worry. I hide it from everyone that might care because I can't have them worrying about me. Their lives are too precious, too meaningful, to be worrying about me. I mean nothing to this world. Not many of us do. I have, unfortunately, accepted that. And I can live with it. If you've made it this far, congrats. If you see this as a sob story, congrats. You're an ignorant asshole. Have a nice night.
