I lied

I lied. I do have something to say. I hate you, world! I really do. I never did anything to you to warrant the treatment I've gotten. Now I sit here staring the end right in the face, realizing just how sad it is that some people you see in your own mind—you know it's the last time you'll ever see them again. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that those faces, those memories, are all you have left.

This whole time, I've tried to get people to hate me to make it easier for them, but it's not the way it should be. They don't need to hate me because I hate the world, almost every bit of it. The world, with its endless cruelty and unfairness, has pushed me to this point. I've been through hell and back, and for what? To be left alone with my thoughts, haunted by the ghosts of my past, and tormented by the memories of a future that could have been.

I look back at the people I've met along the way, those who have come and gone, leaving their mark on my life. Some were kind, some were indifferent, and others were outright cruel. But in the end, none of it seems to matter. The world has taken its toll on me, and I've become a shadow of the person I once was.

Don't get me wrong, there are a few people who stand out that I don't hate; they're like diamonds in the rough. They shine brightly in a world filled with darkness and despair. They are the ones who have shown me kindness, even when I didn't deserve it. But their light is not enough to dispel the shadows that surround me. Their presence is a small comfort in a sea of misery.

I wonder if things could have been different if I had made different choices or if the world had been a little kinder. But it's too late for that now. The damage is done, and there's no going back. All I can do is wait for the end and hope that, somehow, in some small way, my suffering will not have been in vain.