I can't help but wonder sometimes... what kind of world am I living in? Why am I living in a world, or rather, reality where everyone I come across must feel the need to hurt me, make me feel like utter worthless shit, a person that has absolutely no feelings or any kind of opinion, a person who is not worth loving let alone paying any kind of attention to. Am I really that insignificant in this reality? If so, why do I exist? Why was I born for the sole purpose of experiencing nothing but pain, depression, anger, and never ending sadness. I seriously sometimes think I'm just living some kind of forced nightmare that I'm supposed to eventually "wake up" from, but I never can no matter what... sometimes I feel like the only person left that cares about me is my own mother. But everyone else around me I've ever known? I don't even see them as humans - I see them as demonic people with hatred in their hearts toward me... toward me - a person who only tries to love and care for others. And slowly I'm beginning to lose any kind of goodness I had left in me. I just come to terms, now that I'm 23 - I'm just stuck in this repetitive cycle. I feel weak, angry, stupid, and empty on the inside. I want to see those that hurt others for no reason get their just desserts, but it never happens. I've been hurt, insulted, mocked, and judged heavily for as long as I can remember. I always tried to be someone's friend, someone's confidant, and a reliable human being, but people just think my existance is wrong. My problem is, I try to care too damn much. But if I end up caring about myself, apparently its wrong. If I express my feelings, its wrong. Its like I'm not allowed to feel period. I'm not allowed to be happy because fate commands it so. I'm not allowed to have friends, have a proper outlet, have a good lovelife, just because it ain't in the cards for me. And because of that, I think my future is pretty bleak. I always try to do things out of some small string of confidence, but I realize I can't be myself without someone judging me, making me feel like shit. Funny thing is, I think it got to the point where my manic depression made me feel very empty. Its like I just shrug in the worst of times and I try to pretend its alright by laughing my way out of it. But I'm not going to lie, I'm only human, we all are. My emotions happen eventually, I have to cry sooner or later. I have to fantasize about dying a really violent death eventually. I have to dream about the day I may finally gain the courage to go into a world of dark nothingness on my last day on Earth. It's like, thinking about death is what's keeping me alive. But for how much longer, I have no idea... I keep saying November 21, 2009 I want to die... but I have doubt in my mind, probably just fear... since I don't know if I'm better off living, or better off dead. If I die, I want it to be done when I don't expect it - so I don't have time to think. I keep hoping I'll be at the wrong place at the wrong time... Bye for now.