the miserable life of a miserable teenager
pessimist

You call it depression. I call it reality. Yes, the sun will come up tomorrow,

but it still has to go down today.

And I don’t wanna be here for it. Because I was here yesterday and everyday before that.

Don’t tell me that it’ll get better, when you aren't the one that has to live through this.

I can’t keep going through life, like the sun won’t go down again.

Because it always does.

So why do I have to go on? I won’t be in history books or on the Hollywood walk of fame.

I can’t be swallowed by darkness every single day so the poor ones that love me can have a sliver of the

light I once shined on them.

Look at me, I’ve changed.