That's what I'm comprised of.
A casket. With nothing but dust and spider webs filling the hollowed spaces. I wish I could clean it spotless. Filling it with things that could assist me in the future. That could make me beautiful. Insightful. That could make me extraordinary.
That could make me human.
I keep thinking how I haven't contributed anything to mankind and the world yet I have been shamelessly demanding so much things from them. With a fixed stand that I deserve everything I have let my voice to demand.
It's ridiculous. How hatred takes over me yet the only obstacle in front of me is myself. How I destruct myself yet I blamed other people for chances that they weren't afraid to take. It doesn't make sense that I can't control my own mind and feelings. It just doesn't
make
any
sense.
