sometimes I wonder
if I have a personality,
if I have defining traits,
if I make an impact on anyone at all.
sometimes I wonder
if I am just existing,
a black hole,
vaguely resembling a person,
or if I even exist at all.
sometimes I wonder
if anything is real at all,
or if this is just a simulation
or a fever dream.
sometimes I wonder
if I'm already dead,
reliving my life as it flashes before my eyes,
if that's why I feel like I am full
of nothing but inky,
cold,
nothingness.
sometimes I wonder
if there is a point to trying.
if there is a point to existing.
if there is a point to living.
if there is a point to anything.
sometimes I wonder
if I'm destined to be unhappy.
if I'm destined to hate myself.
if I'm destined to hurt
and disappoint
everyone around me.
is there even a point to all this?
is there even a reason for me to live?
I don't think so.
