I don’t want to stay alive to get an education, or to be clever, or to get lots of money and spend it on lots of things. I don’t want to stay alive to drive a shiny car and get an A+ on my exam paper. I don’t want to stay alive to become famous or successful and have the whole world know my name.
I want to stay alive to fall in love, to have sex, to kiss another girl, to see things and take pictures. I want to stay alive to spend time with my family, to find new people and learn to love them. I want to stay alive to get scars and marks and tans and tattoos of memories, of places I’ve been and people I’ve met.
I want to stay alive to live.
I don’t want to stay alive to live that platonic life society built up for me. I’d rather die, and I have the scars to prove it.