I try to be a good artist. An author. But I can't. I'm nothing.
I'm a failure.
I'm useless.
Worthless, even.
I can't draw as good as everybody else.
I can't write as good as everybody else.
I always compare myself to her...
I've always somehow end up having so many similarities with her, but those similarities on her side is way more precious to her audience.
Lake, Sunny, Beatrice, Aster, any oc I make is pointless if no one likes them.
I don't believe anything anymore.
I don't believe people who say they like my art.
I don't believe people who say my books are interesting.
I don't believe people who say I deserve a life.
I don't.
I've always had.
I give up. I'm living a dream that doesn't even exist and never will be.
I don't even know who I am anymore.
I'm serious.
I don't know my purpose.
I don't know why I'm here.
I don't care why I'm here.
I don't want to know why I'm here.
I don't trust anything I see anymore.
I just want to sleep forever. And by sleep? You know what I mean.
I'm just not good enough.
I don't have the courage.
I don't have the bravery to keep my dream going.
I don't have the will to stay alive.
I'm nothing but trash.
I never wanted to lose Ameera.
I never wanted to lose friends who were close to me.
I never wanted to earn fame for my talent (that doesn't even matter)
I never wanted a life.
I never wanted to hurt people.
I never wanted to live like this.
I don't deserve a life like mine.
I deserve to be in the streets, living a low life where life never even mattered anymore, where no one cared about you, and instantly die at that moment.
I'm nothing. I'm nothing.
No one can convince me otherwise.
Everything you'll say is just a weak excuse.
A weak excuse just for me to stay alive and suffer reality.
I don't want to live in reality.
I don't want to live in any reality at all.
I just don't want to exist anymore.
I just want to hug somebody until I fall asleep.
I just want to stay up all night with somebody and talk about ourselves.
I just want that person to be proud of me for just being me.
I just want somebody to look me in eyes, smile at me and say "You made it."
But there's no such person to do such things for me. I'd just waste their time like everybody else I've been with.
They never liked me.
And don't tell me that I matter.
Don't tell me that my drawings and writings are good. Because that's obviously a lie.
I'm nothing compared to them.
I'm just a tween assuming I'm living a good life.
I'm just a kid whose life doesn't matter.
I'm just a peasant of my thoughts who believes in dreams.
I'm nothing at all. Nothing.
