I don’t think I’ve ever felt happy, even as a kid, I think people that are happy are truly lying, it’s either my ignorance because I can’t relate or their ignorance to everything. I’m not cynical rather I think from early on I understood what life really is, at least what my life is, just a constance of absolute nothingness and disappointment, which leads me to think I can no longer react how others may. I’m not conflicted about this realisation more of just a thought. This world is nothing and our existence is the same, which I’m okay with, I think I’ve been here long enough, and I’m finally ready to finish. Death has never been a big thing for me nor have I ever mourned, but I don’t think people could hold me in their hearts enough after my death so nothing is stopping me, why do I still wake every morning? Maybe tomorrow I’ll decide to stop or to straddle along anyway.