Why do they all see me this way, it isn’t my choice, i didn’t decide to live this way

Can’t they see that I’m hurting? It’s tough being me… easy being them, it seems

They have it so easy, they can wake up every day without being forced to take those damn pills

Oh those pills, how they drive me mad… heh, mad! Too funny a word, in my case

They make me numb, i feel nothing, no sensation, no joy, not even anger

I have control over nothing

Is my existence unnecessary? Am i just a by-product of a genetic disorder?

Maybe they just keep me alive so they don’t feel like monsters

So they don’t have to live with the guilt of taking a life

I wonder though, if they know how it is to have a life like this

Isn’t the value of life calculated by the quality of life?

Or is life in itself worthy enough to exist for that simple reason?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH

Why does this keep happening? These voices.. THESE VOICES…

GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!

It’s a living nightmare..

These voices, they scare me, they’re petrifying.. And i don’t know how to get them out

Maybe if i raise my voice higher than them, maybe then i won’t hear them

.. Today i wake up to a new setting, why have they padded the walls?

Hmmm, maybe so that i don’t inflict these bruises and cuts anymore?

Someone once told me crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy..

Hahaha, i guess it’s a losing battle for me then!