my random post

Sometimes when you have ten million things rushing in and out of your brain,you somehow in some way reach this point where you realize that your life and everything around you is so painted.so artificial.so...temporary.and its really funny how inspite of knowing it, you can't do anything about it.you can't quit, not when you want to...and ATTEMPTING suicide is probably the worst thing you could do to yourself.I've been through the weirdest of times myself,times that make me think that all this isn't really worth it.why do anything at all if all of it is so temporary...how does it even matter?but then i guess it just somehow in some weird way Does matter.you do care how you look,you do love your ma and dad and don't want your loved ones to leave you...ever.and even if they do...you still love them.and maybe am saying all of this to comfort myself but then i guess if you are in this painted life, you might as well paint it well.