Leaving me... where?
I'm just so tired. I don't have anything to care about if I'm not writing. It doesn't matter if I don't have that small bit of meaning, that small bit of sheer transcendence, that small bit of making my life interesting and perhaps even worthwhile.
I'm so sick of being alive. Nothing dramatic like I want to die or anything, but... I don't see meaning in this. In any of this.
I think it's NAPTIME! And people wonder why I insist on getting a certain amount of sleep every night? I'm not pretty when I'm sleep-deprived. I'm beautiful, sure, but I'm always beautiful... and I could be so much more.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment