Sometimes I'd like to disappear for a while just to see if anyone realises I'm gone.
The saddest part of it is I don't think people will realise I'm gone. I don't think anyone would particularly miss my absence. And even when they do, I am almost certain that they will get over it quickly, without a doubt.
I hate the human race sometimes. I abhor living sometimes. I wish I was gone. Dead to the world. Away.
I'm so sick of living sometimes and I know, my life isn't all that difficult. I've got food to eat, a roof above my head and plenty of clothes to keep me warm but yet, I'm not satisfied with anything. Maybe I'm in the wrong part of the world. Maybe I'm just not meant to be here. Maybe I'm just a mistake waiting to be erased.