All these people who have others just like them; and then there's me; Unlike all of them because I am just the same; I try to think and the thought I am longing for appears to my subconscious and I almost see it... but then it's gone; I listen to everyone complain about these petty problems that plague them; why can't I be selfish and just not care? Sometimes I just hate! People, society... myself: I feel bad because I am not what everyone wants/expects me to be; I have thought of death as my outlet; who doesn't at one point consider this? I wonder what the point of it all is; My favorite quote is "We live to die", or "We're born to die"; That is one of the only things you can count on in this life: Death. People fear it but perhaps I am wishing to embrace it. Sometimes I think that but then other times there is no way I would give up what I have. Sometimes I feel meaningless and I can't visualize any future; the things that would make me happy would only leave me a beggar, condemmed to die of something awful in the streets; It's terrible when I feel like I can't even be the "real" me with those people I feel closest to; I love leading yet I so often succumb; passive aggressive; but that's just one of my colors; Damn, why can't you see? You're everything you never wanted to be? I hope that's not me... but I don't know what I want; Usually when I get it, I toss it away like a child would with a toy thats lost it's fun: You know, after the "magic" and initial novelty has worn away. I tell myself sometimes, just to be happy with who I am and what I do but it never happens; I don't understand people; or maybe I get parts of them very well and other parts not at all. I don't really understand much about myself; why are we forced to live every day in this uniformity mold? I sit in that prison when I could be enjoying what I now know as my "hellish" life; it's not a life at all; not what this "gift" should be; far less.