When the sun sleeps

I think too much, not as much do as things happens. Somewhere on this cold stony earth, perhaps contains an answer. I really never needed much, I was never interested in the materialism much, I don't need it. But what's the point if you don't have anything else. Maybe being alone is great, but being alone for the rest of your life seemingly all the time is emotionally draining. I know its true, I'm always left with no one. Maybe this was meant to happen. maybe this was not.Then eventually you realize that there's nothing for you here. Every person I chose to trust because I believed I could, and I probably can but the smoking gun is..they never need me neither do they want to confide me. I realize my existence itself isn't that significant either. They'll dispose me whenever they want, they just haven't. I always wondered why, I never found out why. It has always been like that, people come and go. For others, that isn't the case, its come and stay, and it's always so sad. That's how it ends, how it always ends. Couldn't keep anyone sane. Every waking day is a re-run of the last day and over and over. Thoughts like these are a mind fuck to my mind, I've lost 25% of my vocab, I'm experiencing tip on your tongue sensations. Feels like Alzheimer's at an early age. Just can't remember. I just know, so then in retrospect I can already predict the ending before the beginning. I like to compare myself to Colin from Abundance of Katherines, Except he's pretty happy in the end, and it's fictional. This isn't a creative cry, this is just a story of a lonely guy.






"But everyone I know reaches a point where they throw out their arms and go beserk for a while; otherwise you never know what your limits are. I was just trying to find mine. " - Robert Smith.