I am alone. Well, was alone. It's weird to write this while still alive but almost dead. Yeah, sure, I had friends. But were they there for me? I mean really there. Like would've done anything to stop what's to come, or well, what happened? No. Sometimes, well... usually I didn't even have me. I was me against myself and the whole world .Don't believe me? If I wasn't alone, would this whole thing have happened? Gotchya now...
So... I'm alone. I don't even have me. Even a year ago, when things were better, I was still alone. People were turning on me. And I didn't know why. I’m not sure, to this day, why. When people turn, what do you do? I tried to find a reason why. I searched and searched for things wrong that would cause people to hate me. I spent months doing this. Little did I realize that it had become less why people hated me, more why I hated myself. I had long lists, long playlists, and long diary entries, full of hate. Hatred of myself. That's when I realized I had turned on myself.
Are you done? Sick of it? Well, I'm just a paper. I can go in the garbage. Or if you care, the recycle bin. Or... you could read on...
