I’m like a ghost.
Not appearing on anyone’s radar.
I’m all alone, despite the illusions.
It’s just me. Blazing the trail alone.
I’m not an essential part of anyone’s life.
If I was gone tomorrow I doubt it would make any waves. Actually, I know it wouldn’t.
I’m not suicidal, I have no interest in dying. I have an interest in living. I’m just wondering when life is going to take an interest in me.
I don’t care about shit. All I care about is this art. As harsh as it sounds.
Nobody sees the real me. The person I could be. Not a soul.
Every day I wake up wondering if today will be the day. If something memorable will happen. But it never does. I’m re-living the same day over and over. What do I have to look forward to?
But still, I keep on existing. What else is there?
I shoulder it all alone. After all, who would care? No one really. It’s just me, again.
I don’t want to be famous, I don’t care about riches. I don’t care about things most people care about. I just want to live the life I know I’m meant to live.
But the brutal reality is the only thing standing in the way of that… is Me.