Sensing The Senselessness


I can't be the only one who lies on the floor, cigarette in hand, wondering what in the world am I here for.

I watch the smoke dance in the air, until it becomes the air.

I do not understand any single thing happening in my life right now. And yet, here I sit, calmly typing away this entry, regretting the taste of nicotine in my mouth.

This is crass.

And I am so tired of this bullshit.
I've been so tempted to burn myself with a lit up butt just a few minutes ago, so close to cutting myself, just to see the pain flash blood red in front of my eyes.

So much pain I feel and yet none of it is visible to the eye.
It doesn't make sense that way. Why can't pain be visible. Why can't you see the scars on your skin when it feels just as bad on the inside. How can you prove to yourself that you're actually really feeling this. How can you prove to others that you deserve a little more consideration.

This is so tiring.
It's tiring to try and make sense of it all.

Why am I even here.
What's the point.

My Uncle just died of a Heart Attack and he supposedly still had a full life ahead of him. He's gone, just like that. Why can't I go the same way? It's not fair. My life doesn't even make any sense.

What's the point.



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