The begining of the end

Oh, it is the 20th already. Life is surprising. I am depressed. My heart has been beating like an overworked public bus engine. I was lying down and sleep would just not come. Food I don’t feel interest for, conversation I don’t feel the need to make. I am what I am, distant and cold. I cannot relate to the world that I see. I want to die. I am deep and reserved. The smile that I smile is artificial. I do not have a reason to be sad, neither do I feel happy. Hurt exist in me. Reading, music and movies, friend, drinks, parties, smoking all seem vain. This small room I am in is claustrophobic. The world outside is intimidating. I am a boy in a mans world, a man in a boys body. Love that I scorned, scorns me back now. I don’t need to exist, the world wouldn’t know my passing. I don’t exist. I could be anywhere now, now is all that matters. I don’t want to be anywhere. Not here, not there. Time strolls by, the only absolute, he acknowledges me, and I nod back to him. March on, I remain. I don’t exist.