such a waste




<font size="-2" face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">I'm falling. I'm
not dying, why do I always say I'm dying? I need to break from saying everything
I can't possibly mean.

It'll start with the little things, like &quot;I'm cold&quot; or &quot;I'm tired&quot;,
when I'm not. I'm always trying to live a life internally,

but it's gotten me noplace. I'm sick of hating myself. People are always complementing
me, now I beg for it like scraps from the table.

I don't even lead my own life anymore, I live for people I don't even know. People
that talk about feelings and sensations I've never known,

and fear I never will. I tired of being &quot;insightful&quot;. I feel as though
the reason I constantly talk about myself isn't so much to impress/depress

other people anymore; now it's just to convince myself I exist. Reality, as I'm
aware of it, is a most humiliating joke. I've only apathy for those around me,

and infatuation for someone I may never see.

I'm tired of understanding everything not worth knowing. I'm tired of understanding
things I haven't experienced.

Sleep remains elusive. I don't want to go through these mornings in the wrong
direction anymore.

<s>such a waste</s></font>