This section isn't really of any meaning because it was just some paragraphs I wrote of the top of my head. The paragraphs are below.
General realisations
General realisations, general problems, general worries, add to the confusion of life. Think why? What is the meaning of them? Why do they even exist ask yourself, see what answer you get. You can’t think of one, adding more confusion to your life. Things plaguing you, things confusing you, things, things, things, confusion all over, life are a challenge from the start! Rambling continuously, rambling, rambling, never ending, rambling, rambling, stop, stop, wait, wait, help! Help with this puzzle that can never be solved? Do you know the solution to a never ending problem? Select your answer, correct your answer, and wonder WHY?
Complicated Confusions
Complications, ever producing never ending, figuring them out would be impossible. Run away, far, far away, further than ever quicker than you ever have before. Thinking to yourself what should I do next no choices, no where else to go, surrounded, surrounded by a world that doesn’t like me, thinks I’m invisible, thinks I’m a criminal, everyone wants me, but everyone hates me. Why, I ask what have I done, tell me, please, no answer, just blank do I know? Faces, choosing my future decisions, why, why, why? These faces torment me, which one? Help me choose!
Random Writing
Random writing helps relieve you more than you could think of, but what makes you write them? Can you answer me those questions, what makes them what they are? Why do they relieve stress, no more feeling the urge to cut the blood running through my body ,no more feeling my blood is black, plaguing my insides burning, writhing inside me like it doesn’t belong, like me as the social outcast I seem to be no way not any more, relief is all I feel. The curtain once covering my spot in society has now been removed as it once should have been.
Prevailing?
Relentlessly moving further from my goals, wondering why? How is it they're doing better than me? I chose to fall victim to this torment, this victimisation, this mental torture. The undenying hatred that prevails past my good nature. What is it? What’s wrong with me? Looks, hairstyles, clothes, what? Why? Tell me how I can help myself, stop my torture, there’s no way of making me talk, I refuse familiar words under these circumstances, but why? When I need to talk Why won’t the words come out of my mouth instead of a deadly silence that lingers , constantly showing its ugly sound, no sound the worst sound of all the sound that when there is no sound prevails through all others.