I want to scream, yell it all into the void. For fucks sake I don’t know what I want in life. I don’t know what I NEED. I have no f****** clue what I’ll do, ever. Everything feels like it’s crushing me. I NEVER have a shoulder to cry on, I’m always expected to provide one. I’m never someone’s first choice in anything.

I don’t really like myself, I’m not ugly but not pretty either. I’m always looked at weirdly because I don’t like stuff like smalltalk but it just pisses me off; it’s not my f****** fault that people can’t talk about anything more interesting and deep than the goddamn weather and how the neighbours did this and that.

Why has life got to be so f****** complicated? Why can’t I just vanish? I don’t matter anyway in this giant universe, the world would probably be better off without a useless being like me, one human less to worry about.

I’m too scared to kill myself.
I don’t even know how I’d do it, I don’t even want to *die* I’d just rather have been never born in the first place.
I’m worried about every consequence of my choices, like, in a unhealthy way already, but I can’t bring myself to see actual meaning in life, except for a flimsy excuse that was burnt into my thought since childhood. “Because god wills it and he loves you.”

If that was really the case I wouldn’t feel so empty, would I?
I don’t know, I don’t really care, but I’m stuck. At least for another 60 years.
F***.