The world is too troubled, with mountains too high to climb. What’s the point of reaching a summit if you can’t feel the excitement in it. Nothing is appealing anymore.  I’ve separated myself from the world in front of me.  It’s a wasteland to me now.  The thought of leaving makes me glow inside… but feeling this way now… Once I’ve made an exit, will I still feel the same? That’s the hell I’m afraid of.  I’ve heard you can’t take your life with you to the other side. And that’s all I want, you know, how it used to feel and how it used to be.  I know a lot of the people in my life have passed on, but another portion of people have just moved on with their lives, or stabbed me in the back and changed how I saw them… I still love them. I want those things back. I have for so many years. Just existing, seemingly meaninglessly. It’s so pointless.