Dying as i have lived

do you know what you’re doing? i wish i could say yes, but no, no i do not. wait, what am i talking about? of course i know what i’m doing: i’m living. surely we all have a different opinion on what qualifies as living, but for me, as long as you’re breathing, you’re living. i know many would argue against this fact, but technically, to me at least, it seems like a self evident truth. now, what you do while you’re breathing, that’s a whole other story. maybe that’s what people mean by the statement, “get a life.” if it was like Mario world, heck, i would collect the hell out of those green 1 up mushrooms, but since this is not video game land, i’ll just live within myself. it’s hard to understand others when one cannot understand oneself. i seem to like things and not like things and so do other, yet i can’t find someone of which makes me feel wholly similar or comfortable. i might divulge personality to another, but that is in hopes to find reciprocation. alas, i’m left alone and wanting. for what, i cannot comprehend, nor does another. alone i was born, and alone i shall die. half knowing myself and those of whom i consorted with.

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