What Am I Doing?

"Just 'cause your breathing, doesn't mean you're alive."

S metimes I wonder
what I'm doing
                       here.
Because living and dying
are blurring into
                         one.
I love how they tell us we're dying every second
yet expect us to
                          live.
And how do I live
when there is nothing to live
                                              for?
What am I doing?
Nothing other than just
                       breathing.


And I've decided that if this is living . . .


I'd much rather be


D E A D.


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Today I ate enough food to satisfy a pig. I am a pig. Sometimes I wish that someone would tease me. You know in those movies where they oink at the fat kid in highschool? Well why doesn't everyone oink at me? I definitely deserve it.

Over the past week I've told one of my best friends this a billion times. I am subconciously trying to ruin my life. That's the only explanation I can come up with. Nothing else makes sense. The fact that I keep consuming matter makes no sense. Earlier in the week I lost two pounds. Today I gained two pounds. Yes, you did your math right. Ihave failed. I am a big nobody poopie failure.