fuck this

However I try and approach things, I always fuck them up. I am a complete waste of time, and space and matter. My existence is purposeless. I think about times when I didn't appreciate what I had, my health, my happiness, and people. I hate how I think, I hate how I talk, I hate how I act, I hate how I look. I just want to get a massive rubber and rub my self out. But I'd rub to hard and the paper would rip, and it would be just another one of those things I fucked up. And no one listens, no one knows. I can't get my point across to anyone ever, and I don't expect them to understand I don't.
I tilt my head back and look at the ceiling, I see stars. I always see stars. Every morning I wake up and nearly pass out, everything is so hazy. I don't know if I'm coming or going.. I feel sick thinking about everything, I just want to vomit up all the bad things I do. Get them out of my system. In the shower I scrub my self, I try and clean my insides. Clean all the rubbish out of my shitty little life.
I don't understand anything anymore. I just want to be peaceful and not care. I want to be up with the stars, the same stars I see every morning. I want to look down on the earth with dry eyes, and laugh my way to Mars with David Tennant. Why can't dreams be real? And why does nothing work out the way you want?
I destined to be lonely, depressed and on meds for the rest of my life.