/lit/ - Literature

walking towards death
she smiles
im knocking at her door
but no one
is answering
and the harder i knocked
the hotter it got
the more that i prayed
the faster i fell
into the flames

Thinking about that 30 year old guy that got kicked out of his parents house. Im the same, just a bit younger. My parents are too nice to kick me out though. Sometimes i think about how i ended up like this. Its so easy to say "Get a job and move out" for other people. Yeah, what job, what job would take some dude that barely graduated high school and has no experience.
And if by some miracle i do get a job it would be some wageslave job that pays in pennies. And if i do get a place it would be some shit one room apartment where i would be under the constant threat of being kicked out or have to share with odd people.
Oh, and never a woman. I would never have a woman i didnt pay for.

I think about all the normal people i knew. I think about the guy i knew who has a wife and job, i knew this guy since high school. He had a kid on the way too. He ended up shooting himself in the head.
I like to think about all the people i knew, who were better than me on every level. But they killed themselves.
And here i am, the loser. And i cant find the will to do it. Although i can feel the intensity of it. I can feel myself wasting away, hurdling towards death.