Stars and Their People

I wonder why nobody pays any attention to me. I analyze my actions and think, I’m so worthy of attention, I’m so fucking smart and talented and why doesn’t everybody love me? I ought to be famous by now.
But I take a look at the stars, and I look around as I walk in public, at all the faces, listen to all the voices, and I don’t know any of their fucking names, I don’t know who they are, I don’t fucking know what they even do. I look at the sky and I don’t even fucking know if we’re alone here, I don’t know if humanity is all there is. Fuck, is there a God? If there isn’t, we’re tiny, we’re fucking tiny, and I’m tiny, and I can’t even remember people’s names when they tell them to me, and I sit in school and laugh at how stupid my peers are compared to me. They aren’t stupid.
I’m trapped in my mind, and I only have my eyes. I can’t fucking comprehend how many people there are on earth. I can’t imagine being someone else, not enough to care about them more than I fucking care about myself.
I talk about myself too much. Hell, I’m starting almost every sentence here with the word “I.” I only stop talking about myself when I think I’m annoying, because I’m so scared of what people will think of me, I’m scared they’ll think I’m selfish.
I am selfish.
I’ve always been selfish, and I’ll always be fucking selfish.
There are so many people without names. I want significance, but I can’t even manage to give significance to my best friend without fucking everything up.
The truth is, I don’t know what to do. I want a God, but the God I’ve been raised to believe apparently made us just to send us to hell. People say we’re born sinful, and that means we deserve to go to hell unless we accept grace from God, but didn’t God make us? He makes us sinful and then punishes us for being sinful. I’m too fucking scared to try out another religion. I’m too fucking scared not to believe in a God. I don’t know what religion I am. I don’t know what sexuality I am.
I don’t know fucking anything. I say I love people, but I don’t know how to love.
I want to care enough to make a change, but I just cry when I look at the stars because there is so much I will never know, and I just cry when I look at the people around me, because even if I become significant against so many odds, there are so many people who will die insignificant that I could spend my whole life naming them off and I still wouldn’t make it to the end of the list.


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