Every time I stop and think about my life, I don't feel happy.

I don't know, really. I mean, I'm doing fine... but I feel like everything is on the surface; everything is superficial. I handle my org work, I do my best in school, and I try to keep good relations with other people. But at the end of the day, I look back and I just don't see the point in all of this. Nothing really makes me happy, and nothing makes me proud.

Somehow, the me who reflects on her life feels disembodied. The me who reflects on her life feels disconnected with the body that works to achieve what society defines as success. And if I think about it, this success means nothing to me, really. We try to be successful to attain a sense of achievement, but I don't really find profound meaning in that feeling. I feel like yeah, maybe I've discovered the reason for mankind's existence, but that reason is not enough to fill me with the desire to live. And I don't think any reason can make me do that.

Because I don't really want to live, you know?

To be honest, every night before I sleep, I close my eyes and hope that I'll never wake up. I feel like I'm stuck in this world, and I can't do anything to pull myself out of it.

I'm just going through the motions.

And it's hard to want to stay awake
When everyone you meet, they all seem to be asleep.
And you wonder if you missed your dream.

You can't see a dream
You can't see a dream.
You just can't see a dream.