Catch 22

I have discovered that I don’t want to die, I want to live but just can’t bear the reality I’m faced with (having no redeeming qualities and having no place in this world). I didn’t understand what it actually meant to die and that scares the living shit out of me. To think how close I came to jumping from a skyscraper and being sucked into a vacuum to never feel or experience anything ever again… it’s hard to believe it’s what I wanted. It was only in coming to close to death that saved my life. But my life is still shattered and I can’t put the pieces together. I’m still the same person and I just keep sinking lower and lower, it feels like quicksand and I’m afraid it’ll swallow me under again. I can’t break free… I lack the intelligence to get anywhere in life. For months I’ve had these ideas of what I’m going to do to make money like getting into web design, becoming a personal trainer, doing computer repair, getting into hacking, growing weed etc. I seriously must be dreaming! I’m too much of a fucktard to get anywhere in life, it’s a wonder that I can breathe and walk because I can barely talk, seriously I can barely converse with other people and i’m usually limited to things I’ve said a million times before. And all these projects… I start hell for leather for a few days and then forget everything after abandoning it for a few days. In a way, my fuckwittery is my salvation because I don’t understand and forget how retarded I actually am. There are millions of people dying around the world and I of all people have been granted a life of luxury that I can do nothing with, and I can’t even bring myself to end it when I realise it’s over. It’s like an eternal prison and I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t – I’m fucked both dead or alive.