Posted on 09 October 1999 by DanielthePoet
everything is utterly futile and meaningless. can i ever express what i feel? there are so many people who need to be shown love. so many that need a good friend. so many that could use a good example. but do i care? do i REALLY care? all of us live our lives looking to impress someone. to selfishly require affection. to feel accepted and valued. we all want to feel valuable. we all want to be special. that is what drives me. to show however much of myself that is necessary so someone will think that i am the greatest. so i hide this and reveal that. whatever it takes to get the result i want. but it never lasts. i can see right through the shit. in myself and others. it’s so hard to keep running when i know i am a fake. i can’t stand it. only a matter of time before i cannot bear to be fake anylonger. when there are no more games to play with others’ emotions. and i’m still not happy. and i still won’t submit. what is left but torture? this is an honest question. i want to know. none of it matters. it never has. who cares if i’m famous, respected, popular, wealthy? i could care less. but if the truth is not faced. what else is there to embrace? honestly, it is either one or the other.
written by Daniel Dessinger October 10, 1999Â
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