You, the someone I will never know. I sit here, on my bed, my head against the bars of my bed, listening to Utada Hikaru. There are in total, 4 things on my walls; calendars, posters, and two notes I've been writing. Beside my bed, there is a beak with my air purifier on it as well as my clicker for my stereo, a SoRiku picture I printed off that's not mine, an empty can of Pepsi, a picture of two wolves and an empty bowl. The floor of my room consists of a garbage can that I hardly ever empty, random Weekly Jump magazines that I get from a friend, a poster of a Dragon my mom bought me, as well as various bags and the like. So now, stranger, I must ask you. I do not consider myself attractive, by any means. I hate looking at my naked body when I shower. So how could you, find the time to talk to someone like me? If we are to date, that's fine. I'll let you use me for your pleasure, then you can throw me out later and tell your friends that I wasn't even worth fucking. And you can live with a guilty conscious for the rest of your life, knowing that you lost someone very precious, with a kind heart. But you missed that, and now I am gone forever, not even a memory. I shall now stop writing and let myself cry myself to sleep. Goodnight, person I will never meet.
~Josh~