What’s wrong with me?
Or what’s wrong with everybody else?
I don’t know what I’m living for, why I wake up in the morning. Or maybe I do, but it’s the wrong answer. I will never have what I want. I will never know what I want. I can’t honestly tell anyone else what I think or feel. It doesn’t matter, it’s a lie anyway. Life sucks.
I love the world more than the world loves me. It will never change. I am the only person left on the planet who hates my own individual freedom. I belong in another land and another time. I belong in another species.
Is it too late to start again?