More of These Things

I think bout killing myself almost everyday, because I don't really know what else to do sometimes. Its like a small bit of rage. I just give up. Of course, I've only thought about it. I doubt I'd ever actually try. I love myself just enough to keep living. I love other people just enough to keep living for them. But I'm just living. I do nothing more. Nothing less. I'm tired of doing the bare minimum, but how can I live here? I'm not free to live the way I want. how much is it going to cost me to do that? Everything cost something. I don't want to labor all of my life for pieces of metal and paper only to exchange them for more worldly things. Things I don't really need. They all look so nice. They give you this instant gratification, like "yes! I have this new thing. It looks so nice!" but then, after a while, it fails to fill you with excitement. it's just another something you have to keep up with. Such drugs.They won't last. I won't last. We destroy to build things that won't last. 

We are so selfish. 

I'm confused at the best way to be a human being. 

Where's that balance? 

What is free? This isn't free? Does it feel free to you? We live in boxes when there is this beautiful world. Let me sleep under the moon and stars. The only thing is the bugs. They bite...and the weather changes...oh yeah, caves. What is really meaningful? What really matters? We have evolved our tools...but our minds seem a bit weak. We are dependent on these things now. We should depend on each other. I'd love to hear the opinions of the forest. What am I? Why am I? Extremely Dangerous.

Extremely dangerous to everything else.