I am not a machine, i’m a 25 year old child in a mans body. A child that knows nothing but the definition of death. I use to think there was something in this world i needed to live for, a reason. But this thought is fading. A worn scare that starts to blind back with my skin color. I am not angry or mad, i’m just tired.
I miss my grandmother and grandfather.
Life has defeated me and i have accepted that. Now let me give in and give up.
I have no reason being here. There is nothing left. I want nothing to do with this. There are to many things in this that i have seen before and it makes me sick, it puts me in a place where i DO NOT want to be. I’m sick of the late night bar drinking, i’m sick of hearing about prick people that mean nothing to me, people i do not care about. Your dreams are here, mine are far away from here. I’m sick of the flaws of others rolling on to me. No one knows me, i give people the outside shell but no one knows the real me that is hiding underneath. I am better than all this. If i stay any longer i will slip beneath the undertow with every poor fucker here in this city. The longer i stay the less respect i have for myself. I can no longer be around people that are not looking foreword that are not dreaming bigger, people that have already accepted there fate and have settled in with there everyday life of drinking almost every night or getting high to become a fake person. People that are faker than i ever was. People that dream of moving on but never move. i am better than this, i’m better than all this. I no longer want to talk, i no longer want to work things out, i no longer want to make a promise to work on something that never changes, i no longer want to try for a story that has already reached it’s end long ago. There is always more to be said but whats the point of even trying to talk when nothing progresses.