I am drowning in a lake of sorrow
What’s the point of living?
But there is no point in dying if no one will cry your loss
When you feel this lonely, your life matters Because it’s a story without words
You start as someone, you are identified by a name and, when you die, there should be a story
The story of [insert name here]
How could someone be unworthy of a story?
When you are dead inside, there is no one around and no story will be told
So what’s the point of dying?
The only alternative is rooting until the body reveals the emptiness of your meaning
And you drown.
