what you wanted is just outside your reach so keep on searching

Nice to know no one gives a shit.

Nice to know how little impact I have on everyone.

If I did leave I'd throw a party but people only come for the alcohol.

I'd be forgotten within a week.

After a year they wouldn't even be able to remember my name.

I can go fuck myself.

I don't matter.

And now I'm not sure if I deserve to matter.

You're just wasting your time with me you know. You could be having fun. You could be happy. You'd be better off without me dragging you down.

I'm such a fucking loser.

And you're so much better than that.

I buried my head in a pillow earlier and everytime I breathed in I felt as if my head was sinking further into the pillow. I wanted it to swallow my face up. I wanted my breath to fill up my nostrils and suffocate me. My stupid shallow breath. My fucking gasping breath.

I sat on the bus and imagined being someone else. I made up stranger's life stories. I was the man in the chip shop staring blankly at a newspaper. I was the foreign woman chatting loudly to her friend. I was the bus driver who watched silently as I dropped first my iPod, then my phone whilst trying to find my Oyster card and balance a Kurt Vonnegut book in my hands at the same time.

When we get annoyed by other people we can just go talk to someone else. But you can never escape yourself.

It's killing me.