i sit here and ponder the reason of my existence, i take a sip of my cola. the bubbles play kisschasey on my tongue, and the burning sensation of it gliding down my throat keeps me company.
wondering where i went wrong, was i supposed to end up like them?
people seem strange to me, i often watch and ask questions that cannot be answered and get frustrated with my endless game of why i am not like them. or am i? i have never properly opened up to anyone, not even myself. it could be why i always feel a darkness, one that at it's easiest of times, can not be thought up in even the saddest of tales.
a deep longing to belong, but no desire to create the connection.
the want to leave this world, never will be a hard choice. but the energy needed to go isn't apart of me... i don't have the inspiration to drain my body of it's essence.
i can't shake the gnawing feeling that perhaps, given the pure beauty and aching emptiness that is the world, i have no reason to be.
being awake seems like a dream and the dream isn't worth having.
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