Tired

This will only be a short blog, but I wanted to get this out somewhere.

I’m at one of my midlife crisise (I don’t know the plural for that word, forgive my English sin), however I’ve been thinking and feeling this for a while.

It’s where you kind of look around, and wonder what the point in it all is. Going to school so I can get a job so I can have money and buy stuff and live somewhere. I may meet some cool people along the way and see a couple pretty things, but that’s all life seems to be for me. People always think I’m destined for something, as an A*-A student, but there are so many people like me. Thousands, millions of people who are doing what I am doing, and are going to do what I am going to do. So what’s the point in me, just being one more.

People always say you’re free to live your life. That’s great. Unless you live in relative (not literal, please don’t get them confused) poverty like myself. Unless you’re a mixed-race, bisexual, non-Christian woman, like myself. Unless you’re truly just one fucking fish, to whom is invisible and easy to forget. It’s the little things, like people forgetting to put my name down and somebody else taking what I asked for first, or when I’m the only person somebody doesn’t ring up and ask why I’m not at the party. It’s the things like only being talked to when you’re dating someone or your friend just split up with their boyfriend and they know you’ll go visit them with food and you’ll watch movies.

It’s just the point, when I’m looking in the mirror and thinking; what’s the point? What’s the point? I’m just one fish in a big sea of fish. I pity those who need drugs to be happy; but I do have a drug. My drugs are my fictional worlds, and without them, and I am nothing. I have nothing. If I passed, I reckon about 3 people would cry. My twin sister, my mother, and my grandmother. But, despite all of this, I won’t kill myself. Because I refuse to make those 3 people, who actually notice me, cry; even a little bit.

My point is, what is the point? What is the point in all of this, any of this. There is none. There is no point. But I will continue to be happy for people every day, because I know sadness is contagious. And also, if I told anybody, who would even give a damn? And what could they even say?

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