Here I am again, alone and sinking, and writing in this desolate place. I would be drinking as well, but I have studying to do. I figure sooner or later I'll pull it together and I can't do that while drunk.
I just don't get it. Why am I always back here? Is this the cource of my life now and forever? Am I just meant to fake happiness until the pain of everything beats me down again and again?
I'm beginning to think there isn't any fun any more. My only real enjoyment is playing games where I can stop being me for a while.
I miss living.
And I'm tired. I can sleep but I never rest. Its always there someplace, the struggle.
MAybe this is why people take drugs. Its hard to create this place for your self. Much easier just to pop a few pills. I was never much for drugs. I was never much for help. I think at one time I needed help, asked for it, and the world let me down.
It was then I knew that I could always only count on myself. I'm the only one who can't not be there.
I don't know where this is all going, but someone will probably read this and worry.
Please understand, it just dosen't matter. Nothing gets fixed, nothing changes, and I'm too stuborn to just vanish, no matter how much I want to some times.
How far do I need to go to just stop careing?
Thats the problem. I still care and probably always will. Now careing is just an empty place inside me. A hole where people come to piss and laugh.
It just dosen't matter.
I don't even know why I keep posting these. They usually just get me in trouble.
I should get back to studying.