Since No Soul Reads

You can try, but you just can't stop;
Fangs up, cobra-style.

Since not a soul reads this, why not? Amazing times. I figure, adapting to change is my biggest flaw. Nothing more, nothing less. Adapting to change.

My history is very detailed, I've been through too much. I don't believe there's a God. If there was, the same shit wouldn't be barreling in my direction. Giving me the same tests to deal with over and over doesn't constitute a God. I don't believe in Karma. Because in truth, if Karma were real. My parents would've died a while back for what they've done, and I'd be on my deathbed right now. Fate is the most feasible out of these three. No choice you make is really making your life different, because it always ends in the same outcome. Always. No matter if I steer away from the problem. The inevitable ending is still, the problem. 180 degrees or not, it always turns into +180.

Maybe that's why I am in this stage again. You know, the depression. Maybe that's why I've resorted to the only people that ever listen. Maybe I only do that because the people I want to listen don't lend ears. Hah, shouldn't consider them friends. Maybe that's why the alcohol tastes better. Because I know it'll help me more than any of THEM. Maybe that's why the blood drips harder, running away from my body. Hoping it won't ever come back. In truth, it does feel better after one cuts. But it always comes back. Thus multiple scarring. Maybe it doesn't matter though, just maybe.

I love the thought of just skipping my classes again. Reverting back to what I truly am. Last night some things that shouldn'tve happened, happened. But, a due favor for a favor. I won't hear from him ever again unless I check up on my goddaughter. The kid deserved what he ultimately got though. And if the cops were never to be called, who said he would've been stopped? Whether it be temporary, or permanent like my fashion. At least that's over. Maybe Aunt Eileen dying is just self-realization. Honestly, going out in a drug overdose sounds right. Or just huffing carbon monoxide in the garage. Either or.

I love how not one soul reads or knocks at my door anymore. Only to have comments when things were blissful. That's laughable. Funny how the "friendship" backs out on their end when you've been the only real one talking. And it's realized when they begin to move backwards away. I guess that means there needs to be change. A new set of people to eventually be shuffled in, one by lonely one. And all the people that I used to call close, out. Because, WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY NOW? Nowhere to be found.

Nowhere to be found.

They say I've got soul;
But I can't find it, so my mind loses control.