why always me?

I can't stand it, it's bad enough being your parents' punching bag, let alone friends. I've had fucking enough. I am going to blow.

I am trying to keep it in, because I know if I can't... I... I'll just... I would have wasted so much time and effort.

I get upset easily. Nothing helps, nothing short of a God-sent bolt of lightning can put me out of my misery, the misery that is life. I am so fed-up. So tired of this road I've been forced to walk, to crawl, to fight for everything. And yet I have absolutely nothing.

It's stupid and meaningless, there's nothing profound about it anymore. What is the meaning in life? We live, we die, hopefully someone remembers us for ten years and then it's over. We're over, that's it folks. You're only truly remembered at the sad point where the soil is tossed upon your grave or your coffin incinerated.

I've always distanced myself from funerals because I believe it a mockery of life. We could have done so much with the moments we had, but we end up regretting in a span of minutes for the shit we never did in a lifetime. Why regret? We should live for the most happiness we can attain so that we'll celebrate funerals rather than mourn at them.

Right?