I’m actually ready to die. I have nothing to live for. Nothing at all. I am not passionate about anything. There is nothing I am looking forward to. I am just a waste of space. I literally sit in my room with my blacked out windows all day long except when I’m at work. I don’t even know why I have a job. Someone else who actually needs it because they’re investing in their future should have it. I am literally just waiting for another freak accident to actually be fatal. All because I’m too afraid to take my own life. What am I so afraid of? Failing? It’s happened so many times already, it’s bound to happen again. I’ve actually never even pictured myself reaching the age of 30. I still don’t. No one has ever loved me, and no one will ever miss me. People die all the time. Life goes on.