Empty Words?
I came to find that I've been writing less and less each month... I feel as though there are times that writing just seems pointless... That everything is pointless.
I am, after all, a complete outcast.
Everyone I care about has, or will be moving away, come to dislike me (or hate me, I'm not sure), or has drifted to there own world that I don't belong in.
The one thing I'm good at, I'm not good enough at; and the thing I love, I apparently suck at.
I don't have a best friend.
I don't have a "love life".
Come to think of it I don't have much of a life at all.
I try to hide my loneliness and anger behind books and TV and school. But when things get over stressful or I'm left again as the third-wheel or people don't notice my existence at all, my mind crashes back to the reality that scares me.
I AM NOTHING.
And I know the words I say, the stories I tell, aren't heard. So what use is it that I go on anyway? I don't know, maybe because I still believe that there might be something or someone out there...
Then again everyone knows that life is meaningless. Even God has told us that.
I am, after all, a complete outcast.
Everyone I care about has, or will be moving away, come to dislike me (or hate me, I'm not sure), or has drifted to there own world that I don't belong in.
The one thing I'm good at, I'm not good enough at; and the thing I love, I apparently suck at.
I don't have a best friend.
I don't have a "love life".
Come to think of it I don't have much of a life at all.
I try to hide my loneliness and anger behind books and TV and school. But when things get over stressful or I'm left again as the third-wheel or people don't notice my existence at all, my mind crashes back to the reality that scares me.
I AM NOTHING.
And I know the words I say, the stories I tell, aren't heard. So what use is it that I go on anyway? I don't know, maybe because I still believe that there might be something or someone out there...
Then again everyone knows that life is meaningless. Even God has told us that.