I need a girl who's just like me basically. I mean is that so hard? Why do I have to be so weird. It's more than hard, there's not gonna be one.
I'm a universally incompatible being. Might as well be a robot.
I'm faulty.
The story of my life is a not even a tragedy, it is below that. I accomplish nothing and strive for nothing. My efforts are a chasing after the wind.
Your stack of empathy has long run out, oh great void as thou art.
I just want to become another person. A faceless man, not to have the weight of morality and responsibility hanging on my neck.
No-one gets me. I'm so far gone I hear as much from Him as I hear echoes from this void I now voice my complaint to. If God saves me it will be a testament to his truly infinite power.
Fault...
I'm choking on my own faulty ribs...
It is quite plain from the given information that the symptoms, my being unable to find love and my shear lostness, are a result of the disease, my great fault. But it's a deep hole I've dug and as fun as shovel-work is, I may never leave this grave.
The thought... "If I do..." shines like a gleam of hope coming from a star peering down from above my pit. If I dig myself out, If I make it to that place up there. I might find her there. I might escape my symptoms.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment