That’s all it would take. One more step.
I don’t expect anyone to reply this, nor do I expect anyone to read this. I just want to vent out feelings I haven’t been able to tell anyone in my life right now.
It’s been a year since I last thought about suicide. Since then, I’ve moved to Australia for college and I’ve met so many new people. I thought this was to be my new start. A fresh beginning from the previous year where friends turned against me. Dispose of my jealous feelings I had towards even my close friends – start anew. I was right, for half a year. Now, on the other hand, is just my past trying to catch up with me.
Despite the arrogance my words may seem to portray, I really do feel that my peers are a selfish and spoilt bunch. Knowing that everything in their life revolves around the words, “cute”, “pretty”, “hot” and “fuck”; their shallow attitude pisses me off. Honestly, I feel as if I cannot connect to anyone. I am constantly surrounded by people I dislike. I feel like I live a double-life. Lying to survive society and lying to myself. I don’t deserve to live. As shallow as my thoughts right now may seem, and at risk of being hypocritical, I rather give my life up so that a child, who wants more than anything to live, can have one – a great one.
Also, feelings of loneliness can’t help but creep in. I can’t speak to my close friends about it because they think that suicide is for losers. They feel sick of having to attend to other people’s needs citing their own problems as reasons. I understand where they are coming from. Everyone has problems. I am at fault for not even paying attention to theirs as well. Then again, they are a shallow bunch, so I don’t expect to understand how serious their problems are. At this point, I’m not even sure whether I have any close friends to share my thoughts, perspective and feelings with. Fuck connections. I feel alone.
Needless to say, feelings of indifference come out to play. I feel nonchalant half the time, the other half – immersed in morbid thoughts. The idea of not living, no longer feeling, no longer sitting here typing this irrelevant post – attracts me. It’s been 6 whole years peppered with thoughts of suicide. At 12, I was almost successful. Looking back, I wonder if that happened for a reason. I don’t know why I was unsuccessful. What is stopping me? Why am I still not willing to take that one more step? If I cannot take the fast escape, why is feelings of non-feelings bothering me? By being bothered by those feelings, I actually feel. Am I a walking contradiction or is the idea of feelings a patch of grey? Where is the black and white in my life? I feel lonely, lost and hopeless. No motivation. Just silent suffering. Maybe death is really the only permanence in life.
Every day, I stare at the trams rushing past me. Hoping for that fatal hit. Except it’s never that easy.
Epitome of life,
Flicker – a sign,
No longer living,