"Maybe someday u'll wake up...and barely conscious you'll say to no one...isn't something missing? You won't cry for my absence I know...you forgot me long ago! Am I that unimportant...am I so insignificant...?"
What kind of hell is that?
What kind of hell is that when you know you won't be missed...when you know that you are simply a face...a couple of weak eyes in the memory of a somebody...
How painful is it when you know that all of your suffering,all of your pain..all of your secret smiles amount to nothing but a faded memory..a disgraceful past...to someone..
and you spend your lonely nights thinking...knowing that you are nothing to someone.Yes.Wake up.Kill yourself.Kill yourself.You are a nothing to somebody.
"Isn't something missing...isn't someone missing me?"
In just one moment all of your life diminshes into a drop of rain falling to the ground....a dirt under people's feet.A drop inseparable from the soot and dirt and dust and disease of time.A nothing.
But you won't kill yourself yet.It will only make you a weaker memory.It will only reduce you to a couple of lines in someone's diary...a handful of dust in earth's hungry mouth.A handful of bones crushed by a mountain of grief.
"Am I so insignificant?"
And now you're left to gather what is left of you...turning and twisting among more and more people who only make you a less and less significant memory...
Am I so insignificant?