it's all pointless.
everything is.
why write it if it doesn't make anyone happy anymore, cause now it's only a memory?
why write what i want to when i'm the only person who even cares about the media?
why interact with people, they're just all going to go off on their own and leave me?
why get up out of bed, i don't have anything to do today - not like i want to do anything?
why even wake up anymore?
today i slept in.
normally i'd wake up at about 5-6, but today i "got" up at 7:20. i say got up in air quotes because i'm still in my bed writing this.
i'm just... everything's pointless.
life's became too boring to enjoy, i'm literally having to fall back into obsession just so i can have a reason to bother living.
the one thing i've always had.
by my side, and in my mind.
...
My tea's gone cold,
I'm wondering why
I got out of bed at all.
The morning rain
clouds up my window,
and I can't see at all.
And even if I could,
it'd all be grey...
But your picture on my wall,
it reminds me that
it's not so bad,
it's not so bad.
/lyr
...
as long as i still have you, it's just bearable enough to keep surviving.
YOU ARE READING
potato randomly half-venting?
Poetrysometimes positive, (actually mostly cause i don't like bothering people with my problems-) and also expect a LOT of admiration towards people in this-
