I dont even want to breath anymore.

Labels have no part in my life . 

I don’t know what type of person i am, or what type of person i want to be. i dont know what i belive in, or the dreams i fallow. i dont understand the feelings i feel, or understand why i dont have feelings i should feel. i dont understand what my point is in anything, but i dont see why i have any reason to doubt myself in the way i feel about understanding. its not about understading the things in life, i belive its about being in those sections of your life, and just listneing to what comes to you.

I have no reason to be depressed, and no reason to be happy. i have nothing bad happen to me, but i have nothing good happen either. im not pretty, but im not ugly, and im not fucked up, but im not perfect. honestly .. idk what i am? im kinda neutral i guess, but everything i do, results in deep, udder depression. 

Best answer for who i am… i really don’t know who i am, or what type of person i am. im unknown, even to myself.

Just trying to be happy in a world where happiness is fiction. My lifes a fiction externaly, but internaly, its the most corrupted, peice of shit anyone would ceice to imagine. 

sometimes i feel that everything i do is a waste of time, everything i do is a pending failure, everything i do is a wasted dream. and when i do give myself a chance to do something i think i might never regret, i fall, and i feel strangled. strangled in my own suffering, something i always set myself up for, something.. that literaly kills me. if death is the only way to keep myself alive, i might aswell die, then my death will make myself alive in everyone else. then in a way, ill be living the way i always wanted to be, known in the world and people around me. i dont live for anyone or myself anymore. i live, for no one ?  

My wrists have been torn from your insanity poured onto me

The amount of pointless tears i’v shed for you  

I’m SO surprised i haven’t drowned from all these fucking tears i shed under my damn skin 

There’s never anything we can explain. 

Truly were always alone, always in pain, always tied back, and when we try to break free of this, and spread our wings they will always be wrapped up and pulled away into our misery once again. Our lives will never be free… 

Choose what you want to trust, just know ill never think of anyone anything more than an item. and items aren’t made to come loved to, and for me, they never will. 

It’s nothing any of you items would understand. 

Smile at pain, Cry with happiness. 

Tears Shed from not what we want, but from what we lost, and from what we had.

We all cry ourselves to sleep. Not just Physically, but Internally. 

Your just another reason to why we die cold in the end. 

Lifes just another Burden