P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C would look great tattooed on my knuckles,

But I'm not going to do it because like everything else, it would fail to make any dent to you and your superiority complex. The good thing is that I don't feel entirely ridiculous anymore, just mostly. And my need to jump out of a 54th floor window has ceased for the time being. I'll wait until the weather warms up again before contemplating suicide. I would rather my last moments be warm. Every human being wants to feel safe. If i knew how to approach that feeling maybe I could find a way to embrace it. But the light at the end of my tunnel, once again, has been turned off. So for now I will keeping waking up each morning into the same daunting routine in hopes that one day either I won't wake up or that the day will bring something entirely out of the ordinary and something new for me to take part in.

Melting down

It's not about survival because that's easy. But where do I belong? Where can I survive? I'm not meant for happiness and not meant for love. No one is searching across a country for me. Anyone who has met me would rather just leave me or let me leave them. I was used to this, but then things get a little fucked up. But as always I'm not good enough. Not fun enough, not adventurous enough, not giving enough and too insane to deal with.

It will never happen. No one can love me the way I need that love and no one wants to try. I don't blame them. I'm a train wreck. Maybe someday someone will want to stick around to be with me. I'm not counting on it.