Meanderings of an Unoccupied Mind

Life is meaningless

Nothing more than words flowing away onto the page

I sit at the computer

Nothing to do but zone out

Is this the meaning of my life?

Why am I here?

Yes, I know it’s a bit clichéd.

The whole why am I here thing

Still

Has anyone come up with a good answer yet?

Or am I just rambling?

It’s quite possible

To tell you the truth, I prefer writing with a pen and paper. But I can keep up with my thoughts when I’m typing.

Not that I can type quickly.

At all

My life seems meaningless.

I’m not essential in anyone’s life.

If I had never existed I don’t think anyone would have changed,

No, seriously, I cannot think of one major impact I’ve made on someone’s life

Valentine’s day is coming.

I highly doubt that anyone will send me anything unless it’s one of my so-called “Friends”

I refuse to think that they are truly close to my heart.

I don’t know why.

Very few of them actually mean anything to me.

I’m making a party list to my 16th birthday party.

If I just invited my real friends, it would be a pitifully small party.

Why is that?

Everyone says how friendly and charming I am.

Is this just teenage angst breaking through?

sigh

now what?

I continue with my boring, un-unique life?

What is there that I have to live for?

Let’s face it.

My dreams will never become reality.

He will never ask me out,

We’ll never kiss.

Even other dreams for the future:

Poet laureate,

Un representative

All unrealistic.

They’ll never happen.

I’ll just continue this current way of going on,

Not caring,

Not even bothering to make real hopes and dreams

It’s funny.

Before school started this year, I didn’t even think of him

Now,

It’s all I can think of.

Why won’t he even look at me?

I’m not hideous.

Am I?

God,

Oh wait, I’m an atheist.

Why are there never good swears for atheists??

I mean:

Goddamn

Goddamnmotherfucker

Goddammit.

God

They’re all religious.

Maybe they’re not.

Who knows?

What a stupid thing to write about.

I’m just taking up space on my hard drive,

And I know it.

Really,

I’m not a depressed person,

Not if you don’t count when I’m alone or thinking of him

Do you think if I paid him, he would look at me?

But that’s not what I want

I just want to kiss him and have him kiss me back.

God,

What a depressing thought

I’m head over heels for the boy and he won’t even glace at me.

Maybe it is just teenage angst after all.