Just another disillusioned soul

Life is far too cruel and absurd to be lived.

I don’t know what fucked me up first – whether it was life or me. If I knew it was my own fault I don’t know if I would feel worse. But either way, what’s done is done. I’m damaged goods now.

I know that I had great potential – once. I know that I could have achieved some amazing things – once. If only I could turn back the hands of time – try a do-over, but this time with zero mistakes. This time, taking advantage of that limitless potential. This time, with the knowledge of how close I will be to the edge if I don’t.

But who knows? Maybe I was always destined to be a fuck-up. If such as thing as destiny exists in this arbitrary, spiteful mess of a universe.

Life is inherently unfair, and it pisses me off so fucking bad. There are so many people with lives worse than mine who aren’t even given a chance at happiness. I had a happy childhood. I can say at least that much.

I just hope there’s some kind of cosmic justice awaiting us all at the end of our lives. Some kind of balancing of the scales. The alternative is too frustrating to comprehend.

How else do you accept a world where some get dealt shit hands from the day they’re born, while terrible people get full houses?

I jumped from my apartment a few weeks ago. I fractured my skull, my spine, and broke both my feet. I’m in a wheelchair for the next two months. No one knows I jumped. I told everyone I had memory loss and couldn’t remember how I fell.

I don’t know what I was expecting, really. If I had wanted to kill myself in earnest I would have jumped from somewhere higher. I guess some small part of me subscribes to the feeble notion that someday things are going to get better.

But sometimes, they don’t. Sometimes they just get worse and worse and worse. That’s what seems to be the general trend. Things are going to deteriorate, and the part of me still clinging onto hope is going to get smaller and smaller, until it finally disappears.

Then I’ll kill myself for real this time. Something painless and blissful, like a heroin overdose, so I can drift out of this world on a carpet of clouds and never come back.

That’s my prediction, anyway.