I wish the sirens would stop going by my house. 
I wish the rain would turn to snow instead.
It's so loud where I live.
It's so loud in my head.


I am so fucking unhappy. 
And it's getting worse before better.
So today I've decided to change.
To be proactive.
Because my options are limited.


I could end it all. Oh, I could have fun with it.
I can affect as many people as I like. 
I could buy a bike and ride it into the ocean and not be found for days.
I could jump down onto the tracks and ruin the whole city's day.
I could lean against my bedroom door and open my veins and let blood pool for my roommate to find.
I could die a lot of ways. But I can't really die. I want to feel everything. I want to be found.
I want to hear the tears and screams and terror. 
The consequences of dying are more than death itself.


I won't get my fortune. My physique.
I won't get my ten bedroom house. My seashell pool. 
My nursery, my Disney paintings, my tattoos, my perfect child.
I know what it takes for me to be happy.
But it's all so far away.
Euphoria is a distant planet in a solar system beyond this galaxy.
And I'm stuck in a fucking black hole.


There has to be something better than staying in my bedroom.
My eight by ten foot cage for my cerebellum prison.
I am infinitely barred from relating to the world surrounding.
Crying destroys me. Crying creates.
Tears feel at home with the raindrops on the window.


These things to make me happy, I can see them in my future. 
Maybe when I'm 21. Twenty-four. Thirty-two.
So what can I do now?
I'm not immortal and no year, no day is promised.
I could die any time I leave the house.
I could be hit any time I cross the road.
I could die at any step, stand or inhale.
How can I be happy if there's nothing for me now?


So now I'm trying to change.
All that satisfies me now is art.
I just need more art in my life.
Music, books, paintings, all this.
I have nothing else.