I am half alive. I am half indifferent.

I saw the signs but refused to read them because it is a pain I wish to bear. Long before I have decided to stand it because i found nothing needed to be fixed, or if ever there was, fixing it is beyond my capability. Why should I give up on something which makes me happy? But why should i hold on to something which makes me sad? I know it is killing me but it also makes me alive. I saw the signs, and the signs saw me. More often than not, they do not appear until enough damage has been done. It has damaged me more than enough. It has damaged me more than too much. But that doesn't matter now, because nothing really matters now. It's not indifference. It's something else.