I wrote a story because I didn’t want to die
I used a pen though it didn’t fit the times
I was being pretentious
I was egotistical about my story to the point of fainting
It was truly fun to become an adult
I wrote a story because I didn’t want to die
If it were you what kind of ending would you want?
If it were you would this kind of plot make you laugh?
Maybe you’d cry?
Maybe you’d get mad?
I wrote about an imaginary you
A beautiful unobtainable sensation
All of that was fiction
Even so I wrote it
It won’t end
How could it end like this?
Could I say I’ve written it all?
I wrote spring, summer, fall and winter
Because I didn’t want to die
In a trash dump of a room
I’m writing again today
That’s right, I’m a useless man
I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,
I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,
I don’t want to die
I wanted to know what it’s like to be human, so I wrote a story
Because I who can’t get frank and honest words to come out am not human
Since I only wrote down the things I wanted to say, this story was possible
Though no one will see it it was somehow fun
I wanted to try smiling like a human would, so I wrote a story
Sometime in the past the muscles in my cheeks atrophied
Whenever I’m appreciated I feel joy, surely it’s because I’m ugly
When I thought of wanting to be praised, I felt ashamed
I wrote shit about them since we won’t meet again
Friends, teachers, family of my past
Even you that I used to love in those days
Just that made me feel superior
As though to fill in my whole life
As though to fill in all my loneliness
I wrote everyday morning, noon and night
To the point of collapse
Because nothing can ever satiate me
That’s right, I must be “greed”
I want to create, I want to create,
I want to create, I want to create,
I want to create
Music, romance
Going to movies
To make things to talk about, I did anything
Vomiting and eating again
eating while crying, throwing up while crying
Somehow, isn’t it human-like
As thought burning up my entire life
I intently shook my pen
However many years, decades my lifetime is, just that much
You can’t think there’s any use for this shit
I already know that
I already know that, but
It won’t end like this
I haven’t written everything I want to say
I wrote spring, summer, fall, and winter
Because I will die in the end
In a trash heap of a room
I cried my eyes out as I wrote
That’s right, I’m a useless man
I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die
I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I want to create
I want to create, I want to create, I want to create
I want to create, I don’t want to die