Melancholy

I’m dead.

I feel over. What’s the point? How can I keep going? I need to, but how? I know I can’t simply silence this feeling. It’s an everlasting emptiness, a sad calm: melancholy. How do I silence it and continue on, numb and fine? I can only temporarily forget it, but it always seeps itself back in. A deep feeling of missing something within, and never having it; never going to have it. It’s gone, forever. Never to come back. Never had it in the first place, anyhow.

I’m no one, nothing. Life feels like viewing it from a glass outside: sitting outside a window looking in at everyone and everything else. Never feeling comfortable. Never feeling like I belong amongst other people. I don’t belong with humans. I’ve never had them, never been with them. I don’t know them; they’re all strangers. Being with humans is strange. And they belittle me for it. Look down on me. Make a joke of me. I get it. It’s human. I’m not really human: only biologically. They aren’t my people. I don’t have any people. I’ll always be alone.

It is what it is. I hate being with people; it always sucks. I lost it all. Never had it and never will. So I didn’t lose it, not really. I lost. I just couldn’t win. Everything is impossible. I need to leave and never come back. I need to disappear. It already sucks as it is; the further feeling of being alien makes it worse. At least when I’m alone I won’t feel the failure of not fitting in. I’d rather be alone and in peace. Being around people is stress and sadness. I hate it. I have no family.

It is what it is. Nothing I can do. But I still have to win on my own, so I can survive without struggle: so I can survive and ensure my own life. I won’t have what they all do, but I’ll be fine and content. Away from people. Away from everyone. No more pretend family. I have no family. Pretend family is just real pain. I’d rather be alone. There is no love anywhere. Leave me alone.

It is what it is.