everyday i think of killing myself. everyday. 

but i don't know somehow i'm still alive, still out there looking for some other meaning to this shit. i have a lot of what i've been told to want from life. have a lot of what they want. still i feel fucked up there's no joy there's no light. 

everything i ever loved i've lost, it got away from me and if not the thing or person themselves, my love for it left. i've said it too many times, i bore myself. 

yet for some reason i keep trying. i keep wanting to reach levels of wisdom and independance of thought where i can't be phased by the things that fucked me up to this point. 

it's on us all to not take this anymore. we've been force-fed all of these bullshit concepts we've given so much power to so many people to decide for us. work, image, self-worth, monogamy, relationships, organized love, money, accomplishment.

we bought it and we keep crying. i dream of breaking free, even if it means dying.