I don't want to deal with this anymore. I don't want to think and feel. I want to be comfortably numb and not fucking worry about it. I can't stand the way I look myself in the eyes and don't recognize who I see. I'm fuckin sick of wondering and worrying and thinking that at any moment the other shoe's about to fucking drop and I can't stand this, and I don't want to. I'm so sick of this and I don't deserve this. What the hell did I do? What did I do to piss off the universe so abysmally that I deserve to be shit on every time I turn around? It seems like I've royally fucked up somewhere when I wasn't looking and there's no turning back now.
I drew a picture once, of hearts with golden wings flying.
Their wings falter and fail, and they go crashing into a bed of nails.
I can't do this anymore, and I'm sick of breathing.
I don't want to die, but I don't want to live either.
I'm sick of existing, I'm sick of all of this shit. I'm sick of the monotany and the endless appeals to whatever mystical beings may be out there to spare me and give me one single fucking day when the pain doesn't reach me.
Oh, excuse me...
I forgot. It's my lot in life.