I'm 24 and I have no friends. After I returned from the military, nobody even bothered to say they were glad I was back. Not my family, not anybody. I've been back in the states for a year now and have yet to receive a letter, phone call, text, or even an email from anyone. I've called my parents a few times, but they are always too busy to talk and forget their promises to call back later. I've never had a girlfriend. I've heard of guys staying virgins for years, but this is just sad.
I've reached a point in my life where I don't feel anything. The Marines taught me to feel little if any emotion. All I ever feel is this sharp yet "hollow" pain shooting from my chest down my left arm. I'm definitely not good looking, but I always thought that someone would look past that. I'm starting to think that there isn't anything behind my lack of looks. Everytime I think of myself, I just think of what a pathetic waste of flesh I am. Writing this letter is even pathetic. It's clearly just a cry for help going out to a bunch of people who I don't even know. I guess I'm just that much of a shit head.
There's a 357 I bought myself for my 24th birthday sitting on my desk. I plan on using it tonight. The worst part is that nobody would even care. Usually when people end themselves they can at least say "fuck you society, you did this" but in my case I know it had to be me that fucked myself over. Not even psychologists pretended to give a shit about my problems. I doubt I'll be discovered for years. I wish I could see what's wrong with me.
Until now I've kept it together. I didn't want to burden others with this depressing load of problems I have. At this point I'm just too damn weak to keep on going.
I guess this is just spam.
I've reached a point in my life where I don't feel anything. The Marines taught me to feel little if any emotion. All I ever feel is this sharp yet "hollow" pain shooting from my chest down my left arm. I'm definitely not good looking, but I always thought that someone would look past that. I'm starting to think that there isn't anything behind my lack of looks. Everytime I think of myself, I just think of what a pathetic waste of flesh I am. Writing this letter is even pathetic. It's clearly just a cry for help going out to a bunch of people who I don't even know. I guess I'm just that much of a shit head.
There's a 357 I bought myself for my 24th birthday sitting on my desk. I plan on using it tonight. The worst part is that nobody would even care. Usually when people end themselves they can at least say "fuck you society, you did this" but in my case I know it had to be me that fucked myself over. Not even psychologists pretended to give a shit about my problems. I doubt I'll be discovered for years. I wish I could see what's wrong with me.
Until now I've kept it together. I didn't want to burden others with this depressing load of problems I have. At this point I'm just too damn weak to keep on going.
I guess this is just spam.
