I don't know what I'm doing anymore.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I don't understand.

I don't get it.

I've dug myself a hole so deep that it's pitch black and I fell in.

And I can't get out.

I can't climb the scraps of dirt around me to get out.

It's dark.

It's really dark.

There's no one else here.

It's too deep for someone to reach a hand down and pull me out.

I'm stuck in this thing that I've created.

...

I don't understand people.

I don't get how they work.

I don't understand what's going through their brain at every second.

I don't understand the very breathing things I need to avoid my biggest fear.

Being forgotten.

But I never developed social skills.

I don't know how to converse with people so that they're entertained.

Online, all I do is write a bunch of nonsense in caps in hopes it makes someone laugh. Makes someone like me because I made someone laugh.

In real life, I willingly try to start a conversation with a select few. I smile at them, they to be entertaining. It always leads to an awkward situation.

I don't understand.

I don't care about other people's problems, either.

I want to care... but I don't get a drive or motive to help people who share their problems with me. I just give advice because that's what they're expecting when they share their problems with me.

It's what they want and I deliver, since I just don't want them to fade from my life.

But... I can't care.

Haha.

It's ironic.

I'm putting my problems out publically while stating that I don't care for others' problems...

...

I want people to like me.

I want nothing more than to be liked, so I'll be remembered.

But I want people to like me.

What everyone has seen online is a show I put on.

A show of things I've seen other people do that people like.

If I act like them, people will like me. If I laugh, people will like me.

In real life, I'm... colder to the people I don't cherry pick out. Colder in the sense of not talking to them a lot.

If they haven't pissed me off, then I'll try to be cheerful and funny.

I'm very satirical, sarcastic.

I amplify my jokes in that direction in real life to make people laugh, so they like me.

But it isn't me.

Neither of those two things are me.

It's just a show.

People don't like me.

They like what I portray myself as.

They'll remember a poor facsimile of myself instead of myself.

...

Why am I even alive?

I never planned to live longer than age ten.

I got fed up of life at ten years old.

I had enough of life at ten years old and tried to consistently end it.

Life was shit for me then... but I loved life then.

I loved people who were kind to me then.

But that was when everybody used me as the laughing stock.

I cared for people when nobody cared about me.

And now that some people care about me... I don't care about their problems when I know I should.

...

Why am I even alive?

What is the point in living?

Life is meaningless.

There's no God.

There's no saviour after I die to pamper me and give me kisses on the forehead.

There's just nothingness when someone dies.

Nothing.

Not even the blackness the mind imagines is after death.

Just a nothingness the mind can't comprehend.

Even if I tried to get remembered by people... I never will be.

Do you know who the guy was that invented coca cola was?

I don't.

I don't even know who the people are that make my favourite games or apps or the paper I draw upon.

They're forgotten.

They're dead or will be dead and forgotten.

I'll be like them one day.

I made a quote once... Life is an illusion and death is the reality.

Death is the only reality that exists for anybody.

Life is an illusion that is different for everybody...

But it still leads to death.

What we do doesn't matter, so what's the point in trying?

Because people love you?

Aw, isn't that cute?

Who cares when they're dead?

Who cares when you're dead?

Life is an illusion.

Life is meaningless.

Nobody in the billions out their will remember you.

You'll be gone.

You'll be dead, decomposing in soil or cremated for no God damn reason in a coffin.

...

I don't have a motivation to do anything.

I used to, but I don't anymore.

It's been getting worse daily, not caring to do anything.

My emotions flip rapidly.

I'll be the saddest person alive one moment and the happiest literally five minutes later.

It's for the dumbest reasons, too.

Someone could say the most life-crushing thing to me which makes me sad and, if I happen to... for example hear a song I really like, I'll be the happiest person alive almost instantly.

My emotions just flip with me having no control over them.

When I'm mad at someone, I find what made me mad funny five seconds later. Funny in a sadistic manner. Funny because I'm waiting for karma to work its thing or because I'm going to make said karma do its thing immediately.

...

I laugh at others' pain.

I find it hilarious how they could end up in such situations.

Aw, you got punched?

Idiot. You're an idiot.

And it's the funniest thing out there.

Someone was bitchy to you?

You going to cry?

Cry for me.

You have depression?

It's funny how your brain doesn't work correctly.

Anorexic?

It's hilarious how you so stupid to not see how dumb of a choice that was.

I know those things I've said are horrid by society's standards.

...So what?

...

I don't want your sympathy.

Don't give me your sympathy.

I don't deserve it.

I don't need it.

I don't want it.

I'm sorting this out on my own.

This is a documentation for future reference.

Give your sympathy to someone who actually need, deserves and wants it.