How did it all come to this? How did I end up being this person who barely sees the light of day?
Sometimes, I just feel like crying, and I can't even do that right. The other night, I got so drunk that I was on the brink of passing out, clutching on to my chest, holding on for dear life. The truth is, I don't know how to continue. I feel like I've reached the end of my journey, and now that I'm here, still awake, still breathing, still alive with no visible wounds, I'm confused. I'm so confused because I have no idea how to go on.
I keep asking myself: what do I do now? Where do I go? Am I the only one who feels this way? Like I don't need to be saved, I need to be hit by a train. I need to get the wind knocked off me. I need to feel something other than this miserable existence.
I shouldn't be here. That's all I know. This is not a cry for help. It's so hard to wake up every morning, knowing you have no purpose. I'm so tired of hiding. I need to not be here. I need to be gone. I need this little burning flame in me to be blown out, so that darkness can finally consume me. I know with it comes the peace I crave so badly.