Work Text:
why am i still here? do you remember when i was passionetly ranting about dying?
about the sweet unconciouness, sweet darkness, sweet nothing. the nothingness felt comforting, and maybe
just maybe
it still does
in some ways i know im cursed for life
i can run and hide
or try to embrace
but every time im coming back to myself
my self
my own self
i feel like a fraud
im an empty shell and im selling myself as a rich one
life is passing me by and im just staring
unable to move
no matter how much i want to
or even try
im still myself
still cursed
im daydreaming of a sweet life full of glory and rich in experience
sometimes i forget i still have to be main character in this life
and at that moment i realize
there is no point
my life.. not really mine
my life has never been mine
i cannot take any control over it
because its not mine - im the property of people that love me
so much more to life ,people say? i dont think i can bare the great 'so much more'