I don’t know if I feel anymore. I know I got friends,
but it doesn’t fulfill the emptiness in my heart. It’s like I woke up in the
morning and realized I’m not necessary in this world, I can die at any time. And
the saddest part about thinking about death is when your conscience just agrees
with it.
I feel like I shouldn’t have given up when I thought about ending my life at the first time. Extend it just feels like a waste of time right now. What am I doing in this world? What am I doing existing? I have no special talents, no special reason to keep breathing.
You guys can say I’m just a coward, stupid, cunt or an
attention whore, but… you know… I’ve been holding this nothing inside all this
time and I just can’t handle it anymore. I’m tired of all the fake smiles, all
the fake laughs and all the fake “I’m fine”, I’m tired of pretending I feel
something. I’m tired of trying to do things right and always fail. I don’t
wanna be another burden to people I love, I don’t want them to carry my empty
hull on their shoulders… I want them to be happy like I never was, and the only way I may help
is just fading away. I want them to find a better person to care about, cause I’m
not worth it anymore.
I think death is freedom. Freedom from this fucking
terrible world I’m living in, where I looked around and saw everything getting
worse and worse and couldn’t help but seeing my heart drown in pain and then…
just got anaesthetized. I wanted to do something, I wanted to get things better
to people, and to the world but I’m just… nothing.
I think I tried so hard to make some difference that
it just got stupid. I failed and failed, and the more I told myself not to stop
trying, the more I made my life worthless.
I think I don’t feel
anymore. I don’t get anxious, I don’t get nervous, I don’t get sad, I don’t get
happy. I wonder what means hope. Now I fail and comes to my mind that this is
just my fate. I’ve become an actress of life, just pretending I have feelings
to fulfill my existence.
People would say I should just move on, but the thought
about moving on just doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t think it worth a try.
Am I already dead? Did I become some kind of machine
that doesn’t worth fixing? I just need some cup of coffe with a bit of poison
in it.
Maybe death tastes like sugar.
