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Nothing matters to me anymore.

Iapos;m sick of a diapointment. I should just stop caring, go mute. Stop loving, push it away until I know itapos;s a good time to accept it. And I mean everything. This is literally shit.

So what, no comic con. The money spent was pointless. No ride. No nothing. No smiles, no laughter. Everything seems false, and everything feels ignored. I wish I had an exacto knife right now. The first time I held one, I thought to myself even more uses beyond paper. Then I friends friend clued me in on how she stole one and uses it. What an artistic way to go. Smeer my blood all over a canvas. I want to do this painting on suicide, actually. But like Iapos;ll be able to afford it. Nothing good has happened, and so far, for the next few years, nothing good ever will. I just donapos;t feel like itapos;ll happen. I used to be happy all the time. Everyday. It was something surprising if I was sad. I miss those days more than I miss my own mother. I miss them -really- bad. But, missing things wonapos;t bring them back. Neither will forcing them. All in all, what Iapos;m trying to say is:

I give up on being happy.

-Sao

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