I should stop blogging.
I'm getting really tired of this world. I don't know what others think about me, nor do I care. I just want to stop everything that I've started, and perhaps end my life on a lighter note. I don't want to care about a lot of stuff.
We did the story on 'Old Love' by Jeffrey Archer, whatever his name is. A very sweet story. Bittersweet. I read it twice, just because it's that nice.
I really don't want to carry on with a lot of stuff already. I don't want to study anymore. I don't want to live anymore. I don't want to carry on with this life. I don't want to blog anymore.
People keep telling me no to be pessimistic. These were the people whom I told not to be pessimistic last time. But the situation seems to be reversed now. I used to have a lot of energy for almost everything that I had on my hands. Now I have nothing on my hands.
People snob at me wherever I go, while I carry on walking, deluded that perhaps one day, someone out there might understand me. Now, I only dare to ask for someone in the world who won't spend half his time snubbing me.
I'm getting really disillusioned by the world. Someone save me, please. Yet I know that no one would ever do such a thing for me.
Shit. I don't feel like typing anymore. But this might be my last blog post. I really don't want to carry on writing.
I was stoning alone a few hours back, and I realized that I should be killed. My stories are getting worse and worse. I'm making my characters as miserable as possible. Just because I can.
I can't say that I want to die right now, because I don't want to. Or at least I don't want to die for now. But I..don't see much point in living anymore.
I'm out at sea, floating, struggling to keep my head above the water.
But what for?
I..don't know. I remember emo-ing a few days back when I felt like shit. I mentioned something like even if I were to write about how suicidal I am, no one would bother to stop me. I have to stop myself. But what's the point of stopping myself when no one wants me to, when my presence is not noticed, and absence not felt? It's almost as if I'm an invisible entity. No one knows me, no one bothers.
Even if it's just an SMS from making me feel much better, you people won't bother. You all have better friends to talk to, people who outshine me, people who are much cooler, humourous than me. I'm nothing in your eyes. You'd rather talk to me about your guy friends, what your cool friends are up to, what shit you're going to do after a certain age, blah blah.
Never about me.
Even if you read my blog, it's not about me. No matter how much of a shitty day I had, you don't care, because you're more interested in masturbating, in your own troubles, in your own world. Nothing about me.
I won't blog anymore. I shouldn't. No one cares. People don't bother about what I do, or how I feel. They just want to see their names on my blog posts. For some unknown reason. My blog has become more or less a shithole in which names are mentioned, people just ctrl+F their names and read the sentence above and below it, laugh, and go back to their gaming.
Never mind. I'd stop that blabbering. No one's going to care anyway.
-- 4/01/2008 12:19:00 AM
