(no subject)
I write what I feel, and lately I haven't felt anything. Too cold inside to life up my spirits. To blank to understand my calling, yet...here I await this pain, and let it continue on. This pain has grown to me. As if it was brought to my as a summon, but...
No I shouldn't...
for too long I've gone on like this. Betrayed, and pushed along. What has come down to this for you to continue. Did I threaten you in which a way I could not of remember? Or does it seem I look as if I'm on to ammuse with such childish tatics. Believe me, there is nothing I would give to go back and finish the job that I couldn't. Why? Up to this point in my life, I have no clue.
Thinking back on it....I had it all planned...EVERYTHING!!!! Everything was perfect, the letter placed upon my bed, the knife placed upon my neck. But, it was like a voice had stopped me within. So what, stop me so I can continue this life of pain?! What exactly did I do to deserve this? This question, it runs through my mind every night, every day, from when I wake up to when I attempt to sleep.
What is a few hours of sleep to accomplish a day?
You may think I look happy, but that is just an act. I make everything look as if its an act. Everything that you may think I'm happy for, I despise in every way.
I hate the life I live, and I always will.
So I become a famous artist...whats to be happy about that? My name in papers, on TV? Who doesn't want that? I could careless if that happened to me, since my life would still be shit.
I tried not thinking about it, but symbolism is around us, and theres nothing I can do about that. Yet, I still have little fucks running around thinking they can depress me, but, how do you depress someone, when they already are?
Good luck.
No I shouldn't...
for too long I've gone on like this. Betrayed, and pushed along. What has come down to this for you to continue. Did I threaten you in which a way I could not of remember? Or does it seem I look as if I'm on to ammuse with such childish tatics. Believe me, there is nothing I would give to go back and finish the job that I couldn't. Why? Up to this point in my life, I have no clue.
Thinking back on it....I had it all planned...EVERYTHING!!!! Everything was perfect, the letter placed upon my bed, the knife placed upon my neck. But, it was like a voice had stopped me within. So what, stop me so I can continue this life of pain?! What exactly did I do to deserve this? This question, it runs through my mind every night, every day, from when I wake up to when I attempt to sleep.
What is a few hours of sleep to accomplish a day?
You may think I look happy, but that is just an act. I make everything look as if its an act. Everything that you may think I'm happy for, I despise in every way.
I hate the life I live, and I always will.
So I become a famous artist...whats to be happy about that? My name in papers, on TV? Who doesn't want that? I could careless if that happened to me, since my life would still be shit.
I tried not thinking about it, but symbolism is around us, and theres nothing I can do about that. Yet, I still have little fucks running around thinking they can depress me, but, how do you depress someone, when they already are?
Good luck.