cuz baby you were the first, or the last, or the worst
How much point is there in living when what you live for died? How much point is there in existing when the person you continued exisiting for no longer exists? Is there enough left to keep you here?
Is there?
I know that there isn't for me, there isn't enough money, people, love, caring, kindness to make me stay. To make me want to stay. So why am I still here? Why do I continue existing, breathing, blinking, walking, and talking? If there's no point in staying here, if it would be easier to cock that goddamn gun, point it to my tempe and wave goodbye then why don't I let my perfectly poised fingers pull the trigger? If the best path for me to walk is one with a noose and a chair at the end then why not?
People. They are what keep me here. They are evil, damned things and I hate them with all my heart. I hate everyone around me, I despise the people I've surrounded myself with.
And I don't know why I am here. I don't know why they keep me.
I just know that there are so many places other than here, that I'd much rather be.