Saturday, September 5, 2015


I wake up, and question myself. Why am I here? I do want to die, so who am I living for? I try to visualize the future, and all that is is a world of pitch black, where hope has no form and happiness has no place. It is this suffocating sense of the non-existence of a future, the reality that is too bleak and colorless that accompanies each and every day. The vibrancy of the world, the stark contrast to the lonely soul trapped within me does nothing, nothing at all but make me feel worse than ever. Do not, do not tell me how beautiful the world is, how precious life is. Do not, do not tell me how lucky I am, how much happiness there should be in my life. Last of all, do not tell me about all the tens of thousands of others amongst the 7 billion destructive beings on this planet who has a way more miserable life. I know. I already know, I already told you. How many times do I have to repeat? Yes, I am not a starving African child. Yes, I have parents. Yes, I have education and a house to live in and food to eat and clean water to drink and everything so what else do I want? Go ahead, take that all away from me. The thing is ME, and I feel like this because I am who I am and I did not choose it. Do you think I chose to be miserable, because yes, indeed, I enjoy it really much? I fought this battle for so long I just want to comment on how ignorant you are and how real and horrifying it is. The side effects of the medicine I take, the cacophony of voices ringing in my ear screaming at me I see blood all over the place that does not exist violent images that just pop into my mind intrusively I really cannot control my brain when it decides to malfunction I do not know what I did God has to bring this upon me. It happens, even the richest billionaire on earth might not feel entirely happy. Happiness is not defined by material substances, remember? That child in Cambodia, she might be poor but she is happy because she is able to see light, she had parents who love her and kids who play with her, she does not have that black veil of dread and hopelessness shrouding her, she does not have that thick impenetrable glass keeping her from reaching out, leaving her incapable of feeling and seeing what everyone else does. This is the stark reality of life... I consider myself dead. so I do not care what happens, I can do whatever I want. I am dead... what more do I have to lose? if I go to jail or anything, I shall tell myself, on 23 August 2012, I already died. now I am just living the empty shell of a life, up to me how I want to toss it around... it does not matter, not anymore