I miss the days when I felt happy. How I became so content with the idea of death I don’t remember. I try so hard to be happy but it just doesn’t seem to work for me. I’m not happy, I’m not angry, I’m not much really.
Just really really miserable.
But it’s not even that. It’s like, that feeling you get when you’re about to sneeze. You know it’s coming. You can’t wait long enough for that sneeze to be over.
I think what I’m trying to say is, I long for the feeling of not feeling anything at all. I know it’s coming, it’s just a prolonged wait.