Sometimes you feel the way-you are unacceptable, in everywhere, with everyone. You ignore everything, you don't feel any fucking care of every single thing. You aren't needed, you aren't the important one.

I've felt it for thousand times. I've felt it right before you felt it, right before everything's just fine-pretending that everything's just fine when everything's not. Pretending that you're okay but you're not. Pretending you careless but the truth is you care it the most. When it gets to the maximum point, you realize a thing. Pretending is pretty pathetic, pretty fuck, pretty useless.

I'm out. I'm enough for everything that had happened. I'm enough of being a loser, enough of being the weird one, enough of being jealous with those perfects. I'm really out. I wish i could do a teleportation and get a really different galaxy and path of life, and meet kind of new things-included new humans, even though i know the reality-your dream is just a piece of shit.

Damn, why i got this kind of life and year? This is much than pity.

I know i should be grateful for what i've had, but i can't handle it- when i know there's a better life that really same with a dream that i've been dreaming before. I can't hold this jealousy when i know there's people who luckier and it isn't worth with what they've bet and what i've bet. What s(he) has done and what i've done.

Life really unfair, 'uh?

Thank you.

O yeah i'm gonna quit this hell of life. I'm tired.