Promise me you'll never go away.

[_charming_one]

I have nothing to say, so I don't know why I've turned to this wretched thing, but I guess I want to write some stuff down. (or type some stuff down, whatever.)

I don't even know what I want anymore.
I never get the chance, it starts sucking before I get it.
What happened to the friends I once had?
We've lost each other.
How sad.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.
When is it my turn? Why does everyone else get things I want?
Why do I get to be a "have-not" in so many aspects of life. It's pathetic.

I can't even write anymore.
My one saving-grace. The one thing I could always do (unless someone cut my hands off or gave me a lobotomy)feels like it's gone. I'm empty.

But I'm trying. So hard. To wake up and feel like I mean something to the world.