Is it too much to save a person
And continually be enough forever?

Irregular shapes and acute angles round out the world;
These forms of trash and literature are constantly changing.
An original birth of earth perseveres and colors over disaster.

Satisfaction is mythical,
But from an oyster emerges a pearl.

I miss my childhood.
I miss my innocence and child-like imagination.
I miss the people I still love who used to love me.
Now, people disappoint me.
They’ve always let me down somehow, one way or another,
Abandoning me in the past where I’m stuck in
Where the memories still live and matter,
Stored in my blur forever.
I miss everything and anyone I ever encountered for even just a moment
Whether the situation was good or bad or neutral.
At least, I experienced something and felt something and learned something.
People live in this society where the truth is hidden
Because they know if they ever thought about the truth,
It’d **** them inside,
And we’d all be dead.

You don’t know me; it’s a good thing you don’t.
If you did, you’d be corrupted for your benefits.
What I’m implying is: I’m insane, a genius.
The norm is psychotic; the sane are idiots.
Insanity is the only sane reaction
To understand the people contaminating the world.
I can literally sit here and write you an entire book,
Everything I have to say about the disgusting world existing now.

I’m just boring and depressing and a downer.
Why should you like me? I’m a loser
When everyone else has forgotten about me.
My family doesn’t understand me; they never do, like my friends who are strangers.
I’m incapable to find someone with the same suffering.
I ramble on about my misery knowing you’ve heard similar stories from others,
But you have different pathways as everybody else, not a rarity.
It’s a **** oxymoron: We’re all the same in a different way.

I’m just a ****** up person.