Are you happy?

Are you happy? Are you content with the content of your days? Does your daily routine provide you with your needs?

I bet you said yes, no matter how much I wish it weren’t so. Because if you are happy, content, and fulfilled with what you have… you obviously dont need me.

I’m not a part of your routine, of your days… of your happiness. And if this is so, don’t feel bad. Don’t question your happiness, not for my sake. Just let me go, so maybe… just maybe… I can find some semblance on my own.

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13 reasons

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13. It doesnt matter anyways, no one is listening.

Talking to air.

I’m so tired. Tired of waiting for things to change, waiting for people, to change, to want me. I’m tired of feeling unimportant. I’m tired of feeling forgotten. Of being misled to the belief that people want me, physically, mentally, emotionally. Being needed isnt an issue. Plenty of people and beings need me, require my presence for their very existence. But it seems to me, recurringly, that no one wants me. No one wants to talk to me, or be around me, or interact with me in any way. I could live in my bed room and as long as the children and animals are fed, make it to their respective necessary locations, and are cleanly dressed and physically clean… no one would, or could, care less. I tried the whole “give what you want to receive” = nothing. “Give what you receive” = no one cared. So, fine… I’m exhausted. I give up. I’m done. No one wants me, that’s fine. I will exist how I must and nothing more. Not like anything will change. I’m talking to air as it is.

Flip side

If I am such a horrible person, why should I suffer the world my existence? If all, or even most, would better their lives without me, why should I continue with holding them back? If all of my faults gain me no reprieve, why should I continue to strive? Why, then, oh truly speak the reasons to stay, so that they might outweigh the other… but a million words can not repair this damage. A million reasons can not erase those words. A million whys will never answer the question. A million falsehoods can not mask the truth. A million thoughts can not change the final action, and a million apologies will never heal the pain.

Incomplete

I can find no words to describe how I feel. A millions words would remain incomplete. Sad and alone, only a stone thrown. The waters inside, deeper still. Fate, perhaps, not favoring me at all. Has our time come to a close? To we tread these treacherous waters to the exhaustion of our souls? Many lives, many chances, many lies, and many dances. Mainly many, but fewer still. Where a happy life comes from freewill. We did not ask, this thrust upon, not where we meant, but where we’ve gone. Perhaps better, was indeed left alone. Loneliness kills even the strongest of bones. Death beckons sweetly, gently offering peace, and still, I reckon, no thank you, please. Sleeps eternal dream of space, heaven or hell, would be better than this place. With out the remainder, the whole, incomplete.