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I want to live a trillion morns  
I wish to have remained unborn.  
A princess I will never be  
They will never chant my name.
 
Sub specie aeternitatis [in the perspective of eternity]  
I can’t see myself at all.  
Yet even as I nonexist  
Timor mortis conturbat me. [the fear of death disturbs me]
 

 
Basically I am suffering from two kinds of despair.
 
The first kind is small and concrete: I want deep friendship that can touch my soul, and I have had those friends in the past, but such intense friendships are hard to last, and they break apart or fade away.  
I feel so numb from all the past friendships. I don’t want to repeat the cycle again.
 
The second kind is big and abstract: I want to be remembered. I don’t want to live without an eternal meaning, but I know my chances are so small. I will never be a princess like Celestia or Luna, or Twilight. But even though I feel like I’m nothing, the pain is still so real.
 
Both of these despairs have one thing in common: everything breaks apart, nothing lasts.