I can destroy everything until there’s nothing left. And then I can die alone surround by nothing.
Wasted days become wasted years. The promise of your youth faded as your bones begin to ache. You exist alone and unhappy. Die young, it’s only downhill from here.
When I die, I don’t want a funeral. It’s a waste of time and money. Take what you were going to use on that to buy yourself something that’ll make you forget I ever existed.