I Don't Know Why I Am Doing This. Perhaps because it is easy to use. As the days go on, I don't get sadder. I have more friends than I used too, and nothing is truly terrible. I have a horrible History assignement that I really ought to finish before I type this absolute nonsesnes, and yet.
I am aware that life is simply like this and I am aware that I could do better. I'm supposed to be better than my mother but that seems like a high enough standard. My father programs as his job and I'm learning through brute force, not wanting this thing to be discovered.
If it is it will be none but my own fault.
I will but have to deal with that relization and keep moving.
Before I leave you I will share a poetry that I have written. Can you tell already that I'm overdramatic?
The Big Band
I may die a lonely death
But with my final breath
I promise I'll sing a final story
And though it might just be a word
I know that it will be heard
'Cause you can't take the
Big band
From me
[End Poem]
Thank you for reading
-Thought of the end