Useless

i'vee always known  that i could never let death win. I'd kill myself before it gets to me. No one is allowed the privilege to take away my life except me. I find an odd sort of satisfaction in cowering in a corner in  my 30s with a pistol, no husband, no kids, and blowing up my brains, not being found for days. i have such intense hatred for everyone around me. i'm kicking wrapped inside a plastic bag attached to weights, drowning. i can swim very well, but you'll never know. because i never had the chance, never had the freedom, the opportunity to spread out my wings and show you how long my arms stretch. and i never will.
but im scared. i domt think i want to die before i complete my list of achievements. but it doesnt matte anyhow because i'll never be able to reach that level of success. i've been rejected by society always, how could i ever make it big? i'd have talent but never enough and never at the right place or time. i think id venture out to say that im not a particularly lucky person. maybe i should stop hanging out with pussies eh haha.
i never get what i want. i try so hard. i dont think im cut out for a happy life and im done with pain. i've sruggled too much. with abusive father, lack of a social circle, phobia of speaking out, no person who'd give a shit about me and my all around knack for recklessness. i dont think i can survive anymore. i've fought so much. i can't do this.

i can't.
sorry.

Homestretch

Do people ever get tired of not being good enough? The infamous jack-of-all-trades? When you know you worked hard but just didn't give your all? 

Trying, but never enough. Crying, but never enough.

Lacking.

You've been slogging your ass off, running in the sweltering sun, round and round and round. The same lap. Over and over again. The daily grind.

You see vestiges of the finish line but you realise it's a mirage. Can endings be ephemeral? Aren't they supposed to be final? Isn't that what it's supposed to mean? Lasting, indefinite, irreversible, eternal, constant. The responsible, punctual kid that I'll never be. 

Then, what happened?

You know you see the finish line this time, you can't be wrong. It's a tangible sense of victory you know you're going to hold in your hand soon enough. There it is. One more step, you trip and fall.

Always were a clumsy one, they said.

School ending was supposed to be a good thing but endings aren't real.

The home in the title is making me sick. I need to move.