I hate being alive. I’d kill myself, but my parents would freak out and my siblings/friends would be sad. So I literally only live because other people expect me to…
This lack of meaning in my life has led me to focus excessively on the superficial things such as how I look, what I have, and what other people think of me. The raging philosopher in me condemns this, but I can’t help it.
Whenever something goes wrong or I experience a setback in my life now, I get so upset, as if every good thing in my life has gone. I guess the feeling is kind of accurate though, because the physical and observable are all I have now as I’ve been deprived of reasons to live and the feelings that make life worthwhile despite its challenges.
Maybe if things get too difficult, I will kill myself. It’s not like I’ll really care about the people who don’t want me to die at such a point anyway.