I think... I need to just talk, not in the hopes that someone will listen, but because the act of talking will be my therapy.
I feel as though Erin Jaegar is the only person that really understands and appreciates my thought that I'm not special, as much as I would like to think or believe that I am.
I'm not special, I'm not important, I'm not chosen (not first, second, or third for that matter). All I can really do is play my part, no matter how strenuous or painful.
It's sad, honestly, to crave a circumstance that my surroundings don't support. To have a sex drive, but having to curve my appetite. To have fantasies, but not being worthy enough to be able to have them acted upon or acted out.... I guess I don't deserve it...
My influence on the world is negligible at best, and pitiful at worst. Maybe that's what the world sees. And I'm a fool to think that my existence was anything short of mundane.
I... am... a... waste... of.... universal... space and volume....
It's entirely possible that my meager existence could result in something, but I will never know unless I see it through to the end, flaws, regrets, (in the grant scheme) useless accomplishments, and all....