everybody has to go.

So, you know, maybe sometimes we don’t get to choose.

She looked at someone away from me and said, “everybody has to go.” And that’s when I knew that was meant for me, and that this time, I don’t get to choose.

Monday, Thursday, here, there, what does it matter? Just another shredded plan, an idea for something I’d enjoy, added to the pile, another eon of forced smiles and “casting bad aura”, hurting inside, and of closing my eyes each night so that I can wake up from reality.

This is so unbelievable I half-expect it all to be a dream and that I’ll be waking up soon to a world with more fiction than truth.