Oh, sigh. My life is a sigh, a sigh extending until no breath is left. A constant sigh. Disappointment, sadness, exhaustion. I lose breath constantly, and lose more perhaps sometimes—breath I can never regain.

I am tired, having slept but a mere 9 hours. I am tired, despite having slept longer than the previous days. I am tired, sad, uncomfortable, and I do not know what to say but I must say something. I cannot waste precious breath that could be used for words.

I am confused, I am upset, I am neglecting myself and the body I inhabit. I wish I could cry, oh how I do. I wish someone would care, and I wish no one would see. I wish I didn't wish, as wishing is pointless. I wish to be alone and I wish to have company. I wish to be someone else because I do not know who I am, and that is easier than figuring that out.

I do not know who is "I" or "me." Others use a name, but I have uncertainty. Others refer to me, yet I can only pretend I agree, feign certainty through non-address.

I don't know who I am, or maybe I do. I don't know what to tell you, or what's true. What's confusion one day lessens the next, and I am always a step behind, not realizing I need to catch up.

Many a day I'd rather simply die, than figure this all out, than confront the truth, my fears, the past, my mind, life. I wish simply to escape, or to be absolved of my shame. I wish to erase it all, this non-life of mistakes. I wish I didn't need to, though I even don't. I wish I didn't feel these silly urges, and those not-so-silly ones. I wish I could live without wishing; perhaps I wish for "blissful ignorance"?

I never once thought I would, but maybe I do now. It would be easier, wouldn't it? To be unaware of life's tortures, torments, than to be unable to fully integrate into life because nothing is right?

I am so confused, and there are no answers, non easy, non given by others.

And is it my fault, not knowing the problem, not knowing the question to the answer I seek? What use is 42 with no context?