makes no difference

nothing means anything to me everything means nothing to me.

words and thoughts and everything is pointless. i’m alone and other people are just nothing more than reflections that i allow them to be in my own head, and the same is true for everyone whether they know, or admit it or not.

so after all that i’ve…messed, or should i say, ‘fucked’ up, in this life, even death doesn’t satisfy something. even death is a downer. life is bad, death is bad, everything is bad. and then suddenly everything is good.

i’m an animal, i see that so clearly now. i’m probably predictable but not by anyone other than the future, which can always look at the past and go

‘yea, figures’.

nothing feels, worth it. mistakes? how about being unlucky. that’s all any of us who’ve made mistakes are. we took a risk and suffered a bad consequence. then we blame ourselves. that’s not going to help anything. all we can do is either stay here or go. simple.

i’m ready to go. i would love to die on a plane, the sensation of knowing i’m about to die, while in the sky falling down, something about that kind of climax without being self-administered is glamourous to me.

but ******** (my new nickname i write on my arm lately – ok only done that once but still) is how i would love to go, no pain of course being the reason.