Tinsel Town

There's this frustrating sense of helplessness. I feel like I don't exist, that I'm just a shadow floating around, hoping that the world will acknowledge my existence. Or that I'd acknowledge my own inexistence.



I feel so wretched, it feels uncomfortable anywhere but in the secluded desolation of home. I'm useless, ugly and freaky, and it's only fair that I should be locked up in some dank dungeon where the sun doesn't shine.



Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on. But not everyone offers their shoulder. Where then do the extra people go?