26.11.09

Revelry.

I don't want to turn eighteen.

No on is going to care about me.

I'm not going to be special anymore.

I'm going to be like the rest of them.

I'm not going to be interesting.

I'm going to be alone.



Once I turn eighteen,
I can't run around destroying myself anymore.
I don't know how to end that.

Once I turn eighteen,
I am society.

I don't know how to grow up.

I'm not going to make it.
I'm not smart enough.

I don't like people.
I can't be happy.

I hate.
I fucking hate.
Depression.

I'm not normal.
I don't understand life like people do.
I think too much.


I feel like.
I'm afraid I'll kill myself once I realize I'm eighteen.


I will become invisible.


Alone.
Alone.
Alone.
Alone.
Alone
Alone.
Alone.
Alone.
Alone.


Alone.

I'm afraid of that word.

No comments:

Post a Comment