Envy. Hate. Loss.

What is being?

I want to write something, I have something to say, but i can’t say what I feel. I know that I feel something but I don’t know what. A rumbling rage searing my innards a sense of hate and anger to whom or what I don’t know. I honestly don’t.

I feel sick, bored, lonely, everything is so boring and mundane. No flavor, no taste. Nothing.

I have nothing.

I live to work, I work to live. I love what I do and I love what this love, this passion has given me. I feel empty, unfulfilled, hungry.

I’m wasting away, I need to make something out of myself. Be someone, create my own legacy. Give back, achieve, create. I want to be more.

Nothing is ever enough. I don’t know.