I know there's no reason for me to feel this way...I know i shouldn't want to die. Life isn't so bad, I have a home, clothes, food, job, etc...I have my health. Everyday I get up and i just feel empty. I keep buying things i can't afford. i keep doing things that mean nothing to me. My will is weak. the thing inside me that crys out to live doesn't cry anymore. it's just a memory of what it was. i'm just a memory of who i was. I used to be happy. i remember...i think...i used to laugh anyway. life was funny. it's still funny, but in the wrong way. there doesnt seem to be anything left for me. the only thing stopping me is her...it'll hurt her too much. how could i do that to her. leave her that way... if only i could put that aside.
i think sometimes this isn't me talking, that i'm sick, have depression or any of the other illnesses. i think maybe i should get seen, and then i see myself and know this has nothing to do with any mental illness...this is just me. i'm not sad all the time, and even on those days, i want it, im not afraid of it. i tell myself lies sometimes to make it hard..."unfinished business" and whatnot. ooo "true love", that's a good one. what about money, that motivates... some. tonight i'm gonna lie in my warm comfy bed, dream of sugarplums i'm sure, and tommorow, i'll wake, have breakfast..french toast, yum....and go about my daily life and maybe something mildy interesting will happen, maybe not. no one knows or cares. we're all just bodies thrown in with the heap of other bodies waiting, just waiting. how some people make the wait worthwhile is beyond me. i suppose they have a way of making the lies be truth. wish i had the blueprints.
i think sometimes this is my past talking to my future...trying to remind me she's been hurt, trying to warn me of what will come. but then i look at myself and know my past is me. memories of what i am and was. the heap of bodies just waiting. there's nothing left for me in this life. either i wait with them, or i go....there's never been an easier choice...
i think sometimes this isn't me talking, that i'm sick, have depression or any of the other illnesses. i think maybe i should get seen, and then i see myself and know this has nothing to do with any mental illness...this is just me. i'm not sad all the time, and even on those days, i want it, im not afraid of it. i tell myself lies sometimes to make it hard..."unfinished business" and whatnot. ooo "true love", that's a good one. what about money, that motivates... some. tonight i'm gonna lie in my warm comfy bed, dream of sugarplums i'm sure, and tommorow, i'll wake, have breakfast..french toast, yum....and go about my daily life and maybe something mildy interesting will happen, maybe not. no one knows or cares. we're all just bodies thrown in with the heap of other bodies waiting, just waiting. how some people make the wait worthwhile is beyond me. i suppose they have a way of making the lies be truth. wish i had the blueprints.
i think sometimes this is my past talking to my future...trying to remind me she's been hurt, trying to warn me of what will come. but then i look at myself and know my past is me. memories of what i am and was. the heap of bodies just waiting. there's nothing left for me in this life. either i wait with them, or i go....there's never been an easier choice...