When I was in High School I always thought about suicide. I guess I was your average angstyÂ teenager that was going through the divorce of my parents and couldn’t get a date. I would sit in my room for hours so angry at everything and everybody just wanting to kill myself so bad. Now that I’m a little bit older I can see how naive and stupid I was back then. I didn’t really want to kill myself back then, I don’t think I even really want to kill myself now.Â I just can’t find a good enough reason not to kill myself.
I am not attractive. I am not smart. I am not special in any way. No talents, nothing. I am a burden on my family because I can’t find a good enough job to have enough money to move out. I pissed away their money and support on two failed years of community college. I have had one girlfriend in my entire life. She cheated on me two weeks into our relationship and after begging me not to break up with her she dumped me two weeks after that. I have only one friend, which is a girl who pretty much uses me for rides and money, and generally just makes me feel like shit. I used to have more friends, real friends even. But I abandoned them in favor of this girl and they all have moved on in life without me.
I do not say these things because I feel sorry for myself, am justÂ looking for sympathy, drank too much, overly emotional. etc. I state these facts with no emotion because they real and true. I am past the point of depression or anger. I used to work myself up into a horrible, dark depression thinking about my life and how badly it got off track, but I don’t see the point in doing that anymore. I am not a good person. I am shit. I am not looking for somebody to hold me and tell me everything will be better…I used to want that, but now I realize even if I did find something like that it would only end in pain.
The universe is a huge place…bigger than we could ever imagine. I am not an egotistical person obviously, I recongnize the simple truth that applies to EVERYBODYÂ that most people will never allow themselves to face: That you don’t matter. Whether you become a President or crack dealer, the end result is the same. You will die, your family and friends will die, and no matter how big of a mark you left on the planet eventually your existance will be forgotten, as if you were never really there in the first place.
I keep a suicide note in my backpocket. Just in case the day arrives when I wake up and decide that this is it. The decision will be made as casually as if I was deciding to go to the movies. I am nothing, and I will die as nothing. The only emotion I feel torward death at all is the regret that it will cause pain to my family. IÂ know it will hurt, but they can’t see the bigger picture and realize this is a good thing. A good thing for society, a good thing for them. One less useless person clogging up the streets, bogging down the economy, taking up space. It’s too bad more of the shit in the gutters don’t realize this. The world could actually be a better place. One worth living in perhaps. As it stands, I can’t think of anything on this planet worth living for.