Awaiting death

What would be the use of behaving nicely one day? You would again hurt me in more ways than one. I know you hate me. And its obvious. Your behavior. The patterning of such is clearly inclined to something else and the unfortunate thing about this is that I let you take over my mind. I made you a part of my happiness. But you never really cared if I was happy or sad or just needed some attention from you every now and then. You would hate me even if I was being nice. I helped you at a point of time, guarded you in many ways. But you always hated me. I know that I am not really cute or anything. I know you treat me as a cattle. You never put me in a good light. You always hated me. I was just too blind to see it. I do wish that I was dead sometimes. Actually you are not the only one who had done and played with me. I have gotten used to being this way. You ignore me because I am not good looking. I know I am not very witty either. But what ever it is. Its clear. Your indifference is lovely. Anyway. Just I wish that I don't have to stay long here. I belong with the quiet people. I belong to the dead. And I owe God a death.

May be these injections will not let me wake up tomorrow. Soon I will run out of breath.

Sent from my BlackBerry®


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