I’ve learned that I cannot be happy for just a brief period of time, with something negative always counter acting it. If emotional pain left marks, the lacerations would be so deep, they would always be open wounds. I’m such a worthless piece of life, I’ve always been wretched, always been broken and always have been lost.

This is not suicidal at all, but I find it almost as common sense to not even have a grave or memorial. I’d make others pay a costly amount, for a thing no one would even visit, I’d rather put myself to good use and donate my body to science.

I give up on happiness, the years have paved these lows so cohesive into my soul that I’m very fond of this feeling now. I’ve aged a lot mentally, I’ve grown tired at such a young age. There really is no light to look forward to in a tunnel that has been dark for so long.