I've just come to realize that I hate life.
Maybe not life perse, but you get the point..
Out of the fifteen years of my being alive, most of which was spent under the wraps and veils of innocence-slash-false optimism, I've come to realize a very amazing thing.
but then that would mean I hate myself...
But I don't hate myself...
It's not their fault. Most of them fit in into their respective cliques and generally humans fit in with each other rather well. They understand each other, talk to each other, like each other, maybe at one point they even make-out with each other. Humans.
They're a horrible species responsible for a great deal of death on this planet.
But let's not look at that.
Look, I'm not great at ranting. I'm not a great human, and I really don't think I have a right to rant. I like humans well enough. There are certain ones that I take quite a fancy to and there are people that I am really fond of.
I'm just frustrated: at any point of my life I have never felt part of a class. I wish I was, and I really want to. I try. Believe me I try, but at one point or another I just get tired. Tired of trying. It takes a lot out of me when other people do it so naturally.
I always wonder at what's wrong with me. My looks? My manners? The way I approach them? Perhaps they're all wrong.
A lot of times these days I just wish I would die. To just rest. forever. Heaven knows I don't get much of it. I hate the pressure. I hate the no sleep required of me. I'm tired.