Sorry, but…

Today, I wish there was a little pill I could take that would end all my problems. One that would make me sleep. One that wouldn’t let me wake up. Ever. I wonder who would even notice I  was gone? But I’m trying to make myself stop caring weather people notice or not. After all, they’re just people. Love isn’t real. Life is just life, then it ends. A mere 80 or 90 years is nothing compared to the infiniant time sequence that will never end. So basically, we’re all useless little nothings that won’t compare to anything. We’ll all be forgotten. I just happen to have already become forgotten.