Verbal diarrhea

I want to kill myself.

Awww why you have a perfectly… almost perfectly good life. You’re just going through a bit of a rough time hang in there, its going to get better.

Its not going to get better, I’ve been wanting and waiting for it get better for how many years now… I can’t say I can predict the future but I’ve been understanding my feelings, my death wish, and I want to dies more than ever. I say more than ever, but I cant clearly remember all the reasoning, the beliefs, the crap that led to this point but I can say with confidence that my past selves would’ve proud of how far I’ve come.

Now Now, lets not make hasty decisions, if you’ve waited so long whats a little more. You probably have a ton of things you want to do, you’ve always wanted to do. Don’t you want to read that book, no no see that tv show, you love that show don’t you wanna know what happens, you really okay with dying without finding out???, or go hit on that girl. Yeah you never really had the courage, why don’t you do that? if you’re go die anyway what’s the diff?

I do love tv shows. They exist in a parallel universe with an human god, and creatures who’re evolved to fit into highly functional roles hand tailored to periodically culminate a plot in an abstract if not romantic if not moral conclusion. All those undertones, those storylines those dialogues those timings those contemporary-cultural-references-that-takes-the-knowledge-and-understanding-of-the-entire-fucking-memeverse. Hmmm I could’ve made that last scentence more cleverer but I guess thats what you get for watching so much tv, your brain keeps happy masturbating to on-screen happiness. You say why dont you hit on that girl, fuck you loser do you even remember the last time you interacted intelligently with another human being, you’ve confined yourself in solitary existance that stops at your skin. You’ve shut everyone outside because you were the perfect combination of afraid and lazy. What was that favorite line of yours again, “meh its too much effort to bother” or was it “who cares, just forget about it”. I loved that solitary confinment I made for myself in that prison you let life throw us into. I am now an island unto myself and I am happy here alone, masturbating, dying.

Dramatic much? I know things have been bad recently, but its nothing that can’t be fixed. I used to be intelligent remember, I was smart as fuck remember, we’ll go back to school, get those few missing credits and get a job, a good job, maybe a programming job – remember how good i was – and we’ll get a house and a girlfriend or a boyfriend – whatever we want.

Wake up–wash up–eat breakfast/skip it if you’re running late–go to work/college–spend the day pretending to care–where do I eat lunch–pretend you’re awake–make plans for the evenings/weekends–drown the ennui in alcoholic and narcotic solvents–rinse, lather rinse repeat. Most would tell you that only someone who hasn’t fallen in love can see life through bleak eyes. Then again most would also tell you about a moral conscience ruling a serendipitous universe. I’d have a better chance of finding my happily-ever-after in a bottle of amphetamines or maybe heroin or coke or crack or x. Isn’t it better to just end my misery now than to wake up in a gutter one day just to realize that I am now a crack-whore. The alternate being finding someone spend the rest of my life with, you know a stranger you think you can get used to, share a house, maybe some dreams, plan a most bourgeois life, successfully finish 5 items in your 100 item bucket list, raise children, get old, get resented, wait for death. I find it fascinating that people rarely question bearing and rearing children(except for when it has to do with being too young or too promiscuous or such). There are more people who’d commit suicide over the meaninglessness of life, than people who’d question why they did what they did in the last hour… Its not that humans are subjective, that’d leave room for doubt, more like humanity and subjectivity are inseparable. I am who I want to be, I am who I can be, I am who I can want to be. Who I want to be is a product of who I am, Who I can want to be is a product of me. I am a product of me. I want this charade to stop. I want to die.

Yes Dr.part-time-philosopher, you make a good case for

I want to stop thinking i want to stop typing thishit but Ic ant Im alive I have to do todoto do wht? what todotodotodotodotodotodo I am starti I like my depression, I have cmoe to learn to like my depressioon, pity me for there is nothing you can do to save me, you just prefer to see your meanings in you actions inn your wants i despair in my meaningless edath, no god to make me whole no coffin to rock me asleep, when you know that your want to know everything is just sa silly as a pink rabbit bloping thru the slkugrs at lsetl/ stiu3$(*IR LIFE DEATH AND LIMBOS AND HEAVENS AND HELLS GODS AD DEMONS ANDSUPREME BEINGS MONOTHEISMS AND SCIENSC, physics the chemistry, bio, anthro neuro socio sociobio logies and electronics electrical electromagnetism radio waves micro x gamma energy mass gravity flying saucers aliens star trek treks
not an answer to why I should slit my

I’m gonna valium up and sleep for now, cya tom, maybe