I want it all to burn. I don’t want to be human. Human’s are vile and simple. Existing on such a pathetic level of consciousness. We live on a hierarchy of beauty and power. We are born to fuck and die. And I’m ugly, so ugly. But that shouldn’t matter, but it does. And I have no future, and I think I might not have a present. Loneliness, it digs deep in my heart. But why am I lonely? I am pushing everyone away, cute girls and ambitious friends, caring adults and loving siblings. I push them all away. Just leave me alone. But I’m so lonely. So pathetic, and I can’t change. I’ve been trying to change ever since I was conscious. But it never changes. After drugs, homelessness, cutting, sex, and insanity nothing has changed. Nothing at all. And its all my fault. Everything. I have hurt so many people. And I know that I will probably hurt more. And the worst of all I know I’m wrong. I know that it isn’t all my fault, but it is. And I’ve changed some, but no I’m the same person. And somehow is this all I really want? Is this somehow exactly where I want to be. No more food. I can’t eat it anymore. I’m to weak, when I start it I end up a lethargic heap of glutton. Shoving the greasy foods down my throat. No, no more food. Keep it away. I’m not human, I’m not human, I’m not human, I’m not human. I’m clenching my teeth all the time, is that blood I taste? And I look at myself, I’m aging. I’m dying, is this how it is supposed to be? Birth to death: one sad human timeline. I don’t want any of this anymore. I don’t want it. But before I know it my simple conscious forgets everything and I realize I have lived another disgusting hour in this world. And then another hour, and another. Why isn’t there more? Why am I so weak? I want to see my veins split, I want to boil my own fingers. And is that a homicidal tendency in me? Oh god no, could I become the killer? Would I stoop to such a level? Suicidal, that I can deal with but no those homicidal thoughts make me think that maybe suicide is a better choice. But no if I die it will be on accident, overdose, or I just cut to deep, fell off the roof on accident. Could I die, no I’m already dead. Human consciousness is death. No escape. It is like psychosis, like psychosis.