It’s kind of boring talking about it over and over and over again. About being alone and not being able to make any sort of meaningful connection with others. I’m bored talking about it. I’m bored thinking about it. It’s boring. Being alone and being with others doesn’t really matter. It’s pointless to think about or worry. Who cares? People aren’t interesting. Listening to them isn’t interesting. Talking to them isn’t interesting. Hearing whatever inane thoughts they think and telling them about my inane thoughts is pointless. Why should I care? About anything? Nothing really matters. Dying alone or with someone doesn’t matter. Thinking about it, I’d rather die alone. You could make it interesting if you do. Some sort of spectacle just for you. Make it a game. Something. A lot more interesting than just keeling over and closing your eyes. I wish I wasn’t fickle and kept this attitude.
3 comments
i wish i wasnt so pessimistic. did you by any chance read By The Time You Read This I’ll Be Dead?
Sorry but no I don’t believe I have.
i get what you mean. some days im just too frightened by the idea of people leaving me because they see how i actually am, and some other days im just bored as fuck of everyone and everything. im either case i think dying is a better option.