I'm at that point again...that edge, where the concept of life no longer makes sense and all hope is lost. Truth be told I never had much if any hope to begin with. I don't understand the point of it all. We all live lives. Some live them longer than others, but for what reason? Why? Why do we do this? What is the purpose? So, we can get to end and brag about what we've done, regardless of how insignificant it was? Sure, you may have done something great, and you'll be remembered for a while, but within a century, your memory, your picture, who you were and what you did don't matter. It amounts to nothing, and nobody cares. So, again, I ponder, what is the point? Right now, I have no clue, and I wish it would end.
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My Poems/Ramblings
PoetryMy old poems, from the depressed, self hatred, heartbroken teenager years of mine. I only have one currently...Actually...I don't think I have the others anymore....So, I have one. Now, I'm really upset...Great. I can't believe I threw away the sp...
