we think we are superior than animals, we are animals ourselves. our houses made of wood and rocks. that’s all we are, a speck, waiting to go back to dust. that’s all we are. why experience this life at all? what gives. it’s sad to think I used to believe in magic, magic don’t exist. happiness don’t exist. life is just some big joke, one big mistake. my thoughts are the cause of my very depression and anxiety. I envy the dead.
3 comments
Yeah I dont understand the end goal either. I would gladly go back to my state of not existing before birth.
So would I to be honest, apart of me though doesn’t wanna leave my loved ones behind. To never see them again would be quite devastating.
im deeply torn. i dont want this suffering anymore but i also loved life as i knew it a few years back. fuck it gets annoying. somebody make the choice for me. send a hitman to my house so i dont get to keep pussyfooting around.