Yeah 2 posts in, how much? 3 days? maybe it’s just 2. This is kinda sad. Cause I mean, the thing that I’m writing here, in a language which is not even mine, makes me realise how damn lonely I am here and, well, to feel so lonely to decide toÂ write on a web site twice in 3 days or something it’s kinda depressing. As if I wasn’t depressed even before. But, as always, I’m fucking procastinating.
And the thing is that I’m fucking procastinating cause I don’t wanna get to the point. Cause the point has been just in front of my eyes for days and it’s driving me mad. I’ve thought so much about it that it has become a bit like aÂ memory:Â I can clearly see me, completely drunk and fucked up with meds, walking by the rails and falling on them, and deciding that “that’s it”, that i don’t want to go any further, that’s how my story ends etc etc cause i’m basically too tired to stand up. and well, the train comes. I’m in the dark and I see its lights. And well at this point I try to figure out how must be to see a damn train coming straight on me and in what position shall I wait for it, cause, as all those slazy suicidals, I don’t want to suffer that much. But then I think “c’mon, even if you suffered, it would be for a second or even less”. Oh and sometimes I also think that even the train won’t be enough to kill me. Procastination is my gospel.
I was kinda about to do it, today. Everything was perfect. I was about to get the bus to go to the station. But then some fucking thing happened, I started feeling a shit and had to run in a cafÃ¨’s toilet to vomit for a time that seemed neverending and after that I was too damn tired and felt too much a shit even to die.
Tomorrow I also got some very important tests but I don’t have any strenght to study. I just can’t. Studying makes me sick. I read those pages over and over again, but it doesn’t work. Everything seems so useless. I can’t find any joy even in those things once I used to like, which makes me even more depressed, cause makes me feel as I can’t do anything about me and my future anymore.
Than my future…ewww. I don’t really feel like having any, actually. First of all cause at the moment I don’t have any passions to follow and then, well, when I think about my country and how things are going here I feel so damn claustrophobic. I wish I could do something. I wish I could fix things. But I can’t do a bloody anything but get my ass out of this life, as soon as possible.
When I think about my suicide I do feel relieved. So very relieved, so very..fine with it thatÂ I can’t help my self smiling. But, at the same time, a very deep sadness catches me and my eyes get so full of tears, while I’m still smiling.
I hate this.
Before I constantly looked for help everytime I wanted so much to suicide.
Now, well, you, guys who I don’t even know, are the only people who will may read this.
I was told several times that people who are really about to commit suicide don’t talk about their plans on it.
This makes me feel a bit confident and a bit afraid.
IÂ guess that which is writing here is my afraid side.
So sorry if my posts don’t make any sense at all, but things done because of fear are never so sensible, I suppose.