And by the light by which she had been reading the book of life,
blazed up suddenly,
illuminating those pages that had been dark,
then flickered grew dim
and went out forever
  Why am I here? There is no point to my heart beating except to just waste away time.  Nothing I ever do is right. No matter what I’m doing or who I’m trying to do it for, I never seem to do anything right.  Things would be so much easier for everyone if I was able to just stop breathing.
1 comment
I sometimes feel that way too. I try, put all my effort into it, and my dad tears it into two and tells me to do it over again. When you feel hopeless, find something you enjoy doing. I know it may sound hard, trust me, but I found my passion: drawing. I would express myself with a pencil and paper, and everything would be released. My drawings captured the hurt, sadness, and horror I felt, just like Munch’s The Scream or Ashes. Reflecting at my work, I could see what was wrong with my life and try to change it.