Here’s a little about myself if you don’t mind reading. In a short briefing about myself I’d tell you that I’m not what people make me out to be and then I am. This isn’t a short briefing, and time is very precious. I’m most things; an asshole, a jerk, a friend, an acquaintance, a dreamer, a protagonist, a smart-ass. But, one thing I always am is nobody. One of the people in other people’s lives no one really cares about, or thinks about, or cares what happens to. A bystander, a minor character, a bump in the road; Yes, I’m still a human being, but what am I to anyone else? The problem with me is I’m not really that important to anyone. Never have been, probably never will. There’ve been times when I thought I was, but no, I wasn’t. There is always someone else one step ahead of me in line, always number two or less. By now you must think, ‘God, what a self-centered piece of shit’, you might be right, but stop and think about when ever you wanted to be someone’s main priority. Times when you wish someone’s day revolved all around you, when they woke up they had you on their mind. ‘I wonder what so-and-so will think of this’, ‘I wonder what so-an-so is doing’. You know how wonderful that is. To be cared about to be longed for, to be loved by someone. And in other times leading back to what I mentioned about not being cared about, that fact always comes in. Love is always a secret and it’s not always seen the same way by others as you see it. So you end up getting hurt. It hurts to be hurt. You end up building your whole life, your whole future, all your dreams around it, but it’s all fake. So…life becomes fake and fake isn’t real and real is reality. At times you’re so close you can taste achievement and then nothing works out the way you never thought it would. You face facts. Alone.

                                    I’m still young and I’ve got a long way to go before I die. This far into my life though I only know two things: One, everyone I say I love, I mean it. I’m not the kind of person that lies to someone I really give a damn about in this hellish time we have on Earth. Two, I’m not happy with how life’s going. No, I’m pretty serious. I’m really worried about my future. I ask questions everyday like ‘Will I be happy?’, ‘Will I be happy with someone?’ ‘When I die will I be happy?’ ‘Will other people be happy?’ I know the answer to ‘Am I afraid to die?’ yes, I am. Reason being, reason being the same reason everyone else’s reason is. What happens? The constant worry that strikes me, is there just nothing? We all go sometime, and if dying is eternal nothingness I want my time here to be worth dying for. But, it isn’t. That’s why I worry, eternal sorrow to go along with nothingness. I want to go through life knowing that I made someone happy, that I loved someone, that someone loved me, that someone misses me, that I’m not forgotten, because there are no second chances.

            I get hurt by everyone. Another thing showing that no one cares about me, because it’s the ones you love who hurt the most. I could give less than a damn about all the people in the world what they thought about me. As long as the one’s I truly care about see me through. A man doesn’t need the world. They hurt me by what they do. Little things, just little things you can think of things. The little things always turn into bigger things which are ridiculous and everyone knows it, but they never listen to reason knowing that making big deals out of things is ridiculous. Hypocrite you say? You’re right.

            All I’ll put now to sum everything up is: Life hurts, people hurt, and to be forgotten is worse than death. Life full of bickerers and bitchers and everyone does it. It’s a sad thing to admit to. I’m not depressed, or troubled. I just have a very bleak outlook about life, because nothing special ever happens, there’s no such thing as miracles or love, it’s all shit. We live, most unhappy, and we die. Then we don’t know.