There's no point in going through life with company

For years, I asked myself why were people so obsessed over finding the meaning of life. Life has always been singular and linear to me and although I do have many breakdowns over what I should be doing with it, I never once wondered why I would do any of that. Until this moment.

I'm breaking down, quietly. It's the grey scales through the folds of my brain again, but it's almost unnoticiable. I wouldn't notice too, if it wasn't for my constant need of comparision with everything. Life doesn't seem to have a point when I exist-- when I'm alone, however, I'm safe.

And it's weird.