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I have never loved or detested anything more intensely than the world I was born into.

You terribly-scary-albeit-painfully-beautiful little piece-of-precious-shit, you.

You are a *****, but you are my *****.

I chose a time, reality and a life.

I gave myself a checklist of things-to-learn-in-this-lifetime, but  I ripped it up before I could cross out even a decent number of them the moment I got here.  I fucked it up gloriously. 

With my severely depressed, perpetually melancholic state of mind, I doubt if I can proceed any further.

It has reached a point where I can derive solace and safety only from my sorrow.

That, is not the true nature of my spirit.

I need to feel like the magnificent being that I believe myself to be again.

So, Death, my dear friend. Here I come.

If getting an early appointment with you means putting an end to these conflicting worlds, then I’ll be more than willing to do just that.

For now I’ll lay this vessel to rest and write myself a ticket to ‘home’.

But I will be back.

And maybe then I’ll get it right.