Why am I still here

I feel I have no one to live for so I will just have fun surviving. I don’t want much. I want as much as an animal wants. I don’t want to assert myself back into the human world, because to convey that much energy is to not convey myself, and that is exhausting to me, so it is easier to be a nothing. But that existence is lonely enough that it affects me on a biological level. Awesome. There is always a new level of “too far gone” so I might as well keep trying to get to wherever I’m trying to go. I don’t know where it is but it’s some place where I am at inner peace. Or at least aren’t afflicted by loneliness and alienation. Damn you all for leaving me behind. I don’t want to be left alone. I hate everything and I hate these past few years. Joy is a needle in a haystack. I hate that figure of speech if you were trying to find a needle in a haystack you’d probably prick yourself on it while trying to find it. And hay is itchy anyways. If you’re not worried about the needle getting fucked up you could burn all the hay down. I just realized there are no voices in my head anymore. Just noises. It’s lonely. It’s awful. It swims. Why is it so easy to be stuck in “too much” or “not enough”? Why is it so hard to maintain “just enough”? I feel like I’m going to die but I never do. Where is everyone. My heart hurts when I think about them. Maybe I should eat tar. It tastes good and smells like oil spills. 

Good night I hope I don’t have dreams about having friends tonight