Ramble.

I really don't know what to do anymore.

I just literally don't give a fuck. That sucks. I want to care, but I just don't. I've slowly become completely immune to feelings. I just don't care anymore.

I've come to expect things. In fact, I encourage these things to happen, just so they get over and done with and I don't have to deal with it later. I'm treating it like an event. Like it's a definite thing, so I give it a time and place and let it happen - Because no matter what I do - It will.

My body is slowly shutting down. My mind was gone long ago. I just don't give a flying fuck anymore. Why should I? Why should I waste my time having feelings when they're only going to get cut out of me by a rusty fucking knife? There's no point to it at all. Nothing.

I feel completely numb about the entire thing. That should be bad, but I view it as good. I don't want to feel hurt anymore, so I don't. I shut it down, I turned it off. I don't care if that makes me heartless and callous - No one ever cared about my feelings then, why now? Why now is it suddenly important. It's not. It never was, and I wish people would stop pretending otherwise.

I don't claim to be easy to read - And now there's nothing to read. Nothing at all. I feel nothing about the situation. Dull, Painless - A cauterized decapitation of emotions. You can't get hurt if there was nothing there to be hurt.

I try to talk to people, but what am I supposed to say? They would never understand - Because even I don't understand 100%. All I know is that I'm not good anything material. I always screw everything up, I can't help it - It's my nature.

But it's not only my fault. But we'll just continue to say it is to appease those who believe it to be so.

I'll never be enough. That much is obvious.
I'll never have someone to call mine. That much is obvious.
I'll never be shown off. That much is obvious.
I'll never be remembered. That much is obvious.
I'll never be important. That much is obvious.
I'll never have someone to make me happy. That much is obvious.
I'll never be loved. Truly loved. That much is obvious.
I'll end up alone. That much is obvious.
But the funny thing is...
I don't care anymore.

I'm okay with coming last. I'm okay with being ignored. I'm okay with being a fall back or a safe bet. I'm okay with being boring. I'm okay with being slandered. I'm okay with being called a whore. I'm okay with all of this.

Because I have to be. Not because I want to be.