World of Filth

Hey kids, here’s some advice: if you feel like killing
yourself, do it. Do it as soon as you can, because life and society will take
everything from you as you get older. It will even take your desire to kill
yourself. That may sound like a good thing, but it isn’t. You will lose the
will to kill yourself, but not the root emotions that made you consider suicide
in the first place. You will still feel like shit, but will lack the passion
and ambition to actually solve it with suicide.

You may see signs of physical weakness in the adults around
you, but that is only half the story. The horror of age is that mental
degredation will set in as early your twenties. Your intelligence becomes
blunted, your emotions blurred, and life will seem hazy. You will start to
forget why you were sad in the first place, you will forget how to feel bad, and
you will forget what you even wanted out of life. You will then be living the
life of a sexless, emotionless drone, similar to that of a blood cell. With no
personal hopes or ambitions left to fulfill, you will be tasked with living
only to support the life of the wretched society that hates your very existence
even as it harvests the fruits of your labor. The society that, in all
probability, is mostly to blame for your depression in the first place.

I’m tired of the breathless glad-handing and pseudo-charitable
gestures that the people in my life always make. Human beings are nothing more
than animals, their every action directed to their own personal benefit. I’m so
sick of the people around me acting like the shit wages I get from my shit job
are some kind of unfathomable luxury, instead of a bare-bones necessity. I’m
sick of my boss acting like he’s doing me a favor when he is following federal
law and actually compensating me for the time I waste in his little shitbox
empire.

I work in a fucking warehouse even though I have a college
degree. I work with a bunch of shabby thirtysomethings that are too fucking
stupid to even realize how miserable they are. They wear cheap smiles and wring
hollow, squawking laughter out of their lungs. They are so desperate to put up
a front of happiness, of ‘normalcy’, that they don’t even realize that their
over the top effort makes it painfully obvious that they are faking it. My boss
is a **** and a bully, I make poverty level wages, I live with my parents.

Every night, EVERY SINGLE FUCKING NIGHT, I have nightmares.
It feels like I haven’t slept well for years. In these nightmares, I am always
trudging around in a filthy, abandoned environment. In these nightmares, the
reality of my life is reflected in the unreality of my dreams: I am living in a
world of filth. The filth of failure, bitterness, an undignified hopeless
existence. I have to use special toothpaste because my fucking teeth are overly
sensitive. I grind them during sleep due to the stress from my nightmares.

This is a wretched, decaying world. Things will only get
worse as time goes on, and the only sane response is suicide. Fuck the people
that say you are special or irreplaceable. They are only trying to spare
themselves from the calamity and stress that would come into their own lives if
you killed yourself. How the fuck can anyone be special anymore when there are
over 6 billion people on the face of the earth? If I’m so special, why am I
working in this piece of shit warehouse? Anyway, I hope that I can one day work
up the courage to kill myself, instead of choosing to live like a coward.