I'm at the end. I once had hope. I once had dreams, but I should have known better. There is nothing here for me, never was, nor will be. It all fell apart almost 2 years ago, well at least the lies I told myself did. Where should I begin? In the beginning? No one wants to hear all of that. If they did then my own family wouldn't have ignored the obvious signs in front of them, but no one cared. The end? I'm Alone. Still not one single person cares, nothing changed. Nothing I did mattered. Its as if I was just not meant to be, a Mistake.

I think about a lot of things these days. Mostly what I want. The most vital mistakes I made were when I was very young. If only I could start over, I could fix their lives and maybe mine as well. That would only work if I remembered everything though, but then I would still have all the damage still. I would still be an empty shell. The most I could do is pretend and change the way my family's lives went. My mother and sister. I would still do it though, but none of that is possible. When we die, we just die.

I do remember throughout my life I've had moments of crazy Déjà Vu. I didn't really think much of it when I was younger, but as I got older I started to think that maybe we are all just living the same life over and over again. Then I started to think that maybe I'm in hell and this life is punishment for something I did and I'll never know. I still believe that is still a possibility. But none of that matters, not really.

So here i am, seemingly endless desert all around, no water, no food, just a gun in my right hand. Thinking about all those useless things. I cant really say what others are thinking about when they are about to die. I've seen others die before and they were always angry. Perhaps they felt their lives were being stolen from them, I don't know. All I feel is relief and if i'm honest hope. Relief that its finally coming to an end. Hope that's its all coming to an end. Ah well, I'm getting tired. I'll think about things some more when I wake up.