Suicide is somehow comforting.
To me the worst is accepting I am trapped. I am miserable, and yet my situation is a paradise to most of the world. You can not change. You have to live with the pain. I imagine that this is how a parent feels, sometimes at least, you do not listen to your self anymore. You can’t, it’s someone else that matters now. Your life exchanged for another.
You can’t die. You must live, you must cope. Who ever ever gave us the idea of free will? It feels more like a sick joke then reality for most. Everyones life is just as much a statistic as the other….I will have this type of job, and will do these kind of things in my free time. I will moderatley care about the rest of the world and it’s poverty, but not enough to ever change anything. My self hate is nothing but a paradox to to the pain I cause to those slaving away for my life to exsist. Ever thought on how all those things we buy got to be made? And how much worse those life are then ours?
The misery happendes when you realize your wish to die is selfish and piteful, disguisting even to others in much much worser places.
You can’t die. You can’t end it. You have to grow up and pretend like the rest of the world does. Happiness is an illusion, it’s just that all of the world plays along in believing it.
And yet we still wish to