I’m A Figment Of Your Imagination

I’m A Figment Of Your Imagination

I don’t exist. . .

The Problem:

The way I’m treated, doesn’t make me want to stay in this world.

(Read it again)

I’m a figment of your imagination. I don’t exist. Someday; I will be gone.

My hopes, are that I’m somewhere better than this world.

My stay here, has not been good.

I’m just a figment of your imagination. I don’t exist. Seems I’m nothing to no one. They don’t love me. They want me ****. Clearly.

You don’t treat people you want to live; like they do me.

Obviously. They don’t love me. Tired of this nonsense.

No one to spend time with me. Not really anyone that keeps in touch with me. No one to talk with me. You wouldn’t believe how lonely this feels.

I won’t go into details, about how much isolation I’ve dealt with. Needless to say; they have not made my life worthy of being something I want to remember long term.

I want to remember the truth that I know from this life. But i want to forget the experience with these people in whole. I don’t want to remember them. They have not made my life worthy of living.

It’s not living. It is a living death. Zombie shit. Sick.

My efforts have not seen success. I’m not really happy about that.

Why?