The fact and the knowledge that im stuck froze me right down to the core. I couldn’t move for a good thirty seconds which in my mind felt like an hour. Im not smart enough to even get through freshman year. Im not talented enough to get anywhere without brains. No one will ever love me with my scars. People will always look at me with disapoinment or pity. My friends will leave me. My family will move on. I wont be any use to anyone. I will be all alone. Wheres the point in going forward? Not even my mom believes in me anymore.

If I grow up I’ll go a year without hugs, a lifetime without a single kiss. The glances I get will pierce straight through me and not register I was ever there. The watch on my wrist will stop and thats the moment I will truly die. Im a shattered piggy bank for a little kid who found no money inside. Im an empty cookie jar, a wingless bird, a clock with no gears. How am I to live with nothing to push me forward. Only the ocasional smack that will nock me over.

Eventually I’ll just stay on the ground. Let people drive me into the cement with their feet. When I die I’ll not go anywhere. I’ll be stuck in this black abyss for the remander of my existence. And the only thought that will go through my brain will be ‘If I’m already dead how do I get rid of myself?’ That is my life journey. Thats where I’m headed. I’ll be gone and no one will notice. My family wont get a call my friends wont feel loss. The only thing that changes is the absence of my being.

A letter. To me. Stateing that I’m not smart. Telling me I will get my work done or I’ll get stuck in the waves of the sea of confused papers. I already know this. I am aware. But you need to know that I’m already there. I’ve been tossing I’ve been swimming for months on end. I’m tired and I’m weak so isnt time you let me sink? I’ll feel no pain I’ll have no fear. Just the thought that I’m leaving and I wont have to stay a float anymore. There was no point anyhow. I was just sitting in the middle of that ocean. I could go left I could go right but I’d still be stuck right there, cause every help boat every rescue plane has crashed and sunk before they found me.

It’s a helpless cause. So why bother? This mountain is to steep to climb. I keep falling I keep tripping. I’ve lost all hope for the other side. I’ve lost my breathe. I can’t breathe. The only inhale I can take is a long, ruged heave. No more deep breathes no more big sighs they’ve left me all behind. They flew away just like my passion and my lust to keep on moving. This is just a sign I guess. My body has begun to die. This is the beginning of the very end. I won’t need to worry anymore. I can see all my thoughts climbing to tower over me. They create a toothy mouth that in the end will eat me. I’ve pictured this day before and it’s not at all what I’d expected. But right now I dont care because when that first pointy tooth stabs me I’ll still be smileing my way to meet death, and my last words will be ‘Come get me’.