**** this.
**** this whole.

I realize that there is more elegance and eloquence to vocabulary but right now the only works that can escape my lips are

**** this.
Oh. And *******, too.


Sitting here sick
Sick and **** tired of this **** that life keeps throwing my way.
And I just deal with it...
Because I 'have to'.

*******.

'Have to'


Why the **** do I 'have to' be here? I didn't chose this. I didn't ask to be alive, ask to be conscious. I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this. I don't want to wake up each day and breathe and live and work and cry and sleep.

Well...
Sleep.

I'll keep that one.
Its nice to sleep. There's nothing else to worry about. A sweet serene oasis of mine. A place where I don't answer to the **** of other people.

I give it back. All of it. It doesn't work right. It never did. It never will. People say that I should be happy for the things I have and I say to those people...

**** that.

**** your standards of what I 'should' do or feel or know. **** your opinion on how I treat myself. **** your decision that my life is worth saving because so what. I don't want it. I return it. Take it back and give the whole thing to someone else who wants it.

But make sure you ask them first. Ask them if they want this life. Ask them if they desire to drudge through each day just to make it to the next. Ask them if they want the self-loathing, air of desecration that lingers all around me. Ask them if they'd love to know, everyday, what it feels like to have people NOT choose you over and over and over again. Because I'm sure, if you ask them ...

They'll want to return this life, too.


- t.s.