Who Cares...?

I don't know why I wrote this. It isn't my opinion, and it isn't my attitude about life. It really doesn't reflect how I feel at this point in my life at all. I just kind of...wrote it. I think it's good to try and imagine how other people often view the world, and there are some people who view the world this way.

"You're not important. No one really cares about you. You're a grain of sand thrown in to the ocean, and you are going to be swept along without any way to stop it. You don't have to be ugly on the outside. You know you're ugly on the inside. So you hide yourself from others, afraid that anyone you let in will witness the horrors of your soul and run away. You disgust yourself to the point of suicide, but each time you stop one foot from the edge of the cliff, or one inch from the veins on your wrist. You fall in and out of love in seconds, and your spontaneous temptations lead you to live a life of on-and-off insanity. You look for meaning where none exists, and you contemplate possibilities which haven't presented themselves yet. You often confuse love and hate to the point where those closest to you end up getting hurt the most, like the fine line between genius and insanity. Your talents seem useless, and your skills do not exceed the boundaries of ordinary. Your existence is temporary and insignificant to the universe. Your life will mean nothing in one hundred years, but you trick yourself in to trying to last that long anyway. Float on, little grain. Perhaps one day you will find a shore to rest upon for eternity."