I am uncertain of any purpose that might still be stored within me. I have no life, no job, no friends, no one to talk to, no one to share interests with - and my parents are mad at me because of it; I can’t help it that both my looks and personality seem to be repelling to other people, that they dropped me because I am me, that no one ever cares to bat an eyelash at me whilst I’ve always did my best for others until I never heard a word from them again.
I can’t help it that I despise this pitiful world and the stupidity that mankind is. That I don’t want to merge within a hopeless society only capable of murder, destruction, and famine.
someone with scars
doesn’t make you
a hero. ❞