Word to the wise, life is a pointless mess. It is a circle that we spin around in until we get so dizzy that we kill ourselves. To save our lives is to shoot ourselves. It's a lie. It has to be a lie that life is worth living. Life isn't worth living if it makes you want to die. If you want to die then life obviously isn't worth it.
So why do I try then? Why do I give a fuck if my life ends now? The only shit that holds me back is that there are people that I care about here who I don't want to leave behind. I don't care about myself. I would destroy myself in a second, but to do anything that hurts any of them would be like suicide. So with suicide, I am killing myself twice. So could I ever do it? Not physically. I could never kill myself physically because there is too much here. Instead, I will just destroy myself in every way to the point of death. Or better yet, I will kill myself emotionally, spiritually, and mentally, but I will only destroy my body to the point, but not quite there.
No one understands. Everyone thinks they do and say they do, but I know that they don't. They don't know those things that go on in my head and in my heart. And they will never understand only because I will never let them. Why tell people the innermost things of my being when those things will never reach their innermost being? No one can experience the feelings that I experience because what I go through never came about from any sensual experience. No one can or ever will understand or know. I blame that on the One who causes all of this. It is fun to be all alone. That's why I screw up every time I am alone.
