When it comes to tasks of any significance, I will always be inadequate. When it comes to intellect, I will always be severely lacking. I am however, skilled in unintentionally feigning adequacy or intelligence. This allows for people to believe that they can rely on me, which is inevitably followed by my inability to meet their expectations. This failure to contribute in any meaningful way to society is one among many reasons that I’ve mandated my own death.
I do not belong in this world. For the sake of others, I will not permit them to keep me anchored here.
They are never interested in me, no matter how compelling it might be to think they are.
Also, I must make a point of viewing pictures of real dead bodies and videos of suicides to become desensitized the reality of my own death and the idea of my corpse.
I could end it all right now. I want to end it all right now. But I’m a coward and I need encouragement.
A couple days ago, someone posted some very nice information that suggested where I might be able to buy canned CO2 in significant amounts (for a possible exit hood that I’ve been thinking of). This post was taken down–most likely because it infringed on the rules of this website–and now it seems unlikely that I’ll be able to find the author of that post so I can contact them for additional information.
This makes me incredibly frustrated. There are thousands of other methods of suicide that I could utilize to end my life. Am I not allowed to have information on the least destructive of those methods? And one that […]
I am truly alone and one of a kind. Any indication of the contrary is a misinterpretation on my part or deceit from the other party, be it intentional or unintentional.
This individuality is the basis for my necessary death.
All good things are deceptive. I must not forget that even good days are an illusion.
I hate this inadequate mind. I hate this flesh.
So maybe I am a loser. Maybe I am a fat disgusting thing. You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t planned for the best course of action? You think that I haven’t realized that all the “breaks” I get are just illusions or plain dumb luck?
I know what’s in store for me, so don’t feel like you have to remind me. I’m on my way. Just wait. I’ll be there eventually.
Life is always so strange when you know that you’re not going to die of natural causes.
And by strange, I mean that it’s like… Getting a case of horrible stage fright that gets even worse the closer you get. I wonder how bad it’s going to get when I join the marines.
I’ve always thought that there were two kinds of death–the simple physical death and the more difficult conceptual death.
Physical death is just that–your heart stops and your bodies functions cease completely, we all know what this is. It seems to me that physical death is typically the beginning of conceptual death and this is because the deceased person is no longer able to act as an agent that affects the physical world. The only reason that we’re ever able to become conceptual beings is because of the ways in which the world responds to us. The more we interact with it, the more it interacts with us […]
It will always be remiss of me to assume that my interactions with them will amount to anything significant and if they do, significance is an illusion; deceit, miscommunication, and utility will form the core of that relationship. In the event that I’m wrong, and the relationship exists on positive grounds, then it is wasted on someone like me and someone else is more suitable to be that other person’s friend/lover/parent/etc.
Remembering this information will be critical to achieving my ultimate goal and not repeating past events which have led to my suffering.
I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe so that I can just get it out of my system now and have something for other people to read after I’m dead. Maybe for some other reason. I don’t know.
My history with suicide is filled with twists and turns. Ever since I was ten years old, I could tell that I wasn’t normal and that no matter what I tried, I would never be able to fit in with other people due to my inconsistent and abnormal disposition. This idea stemmed from the fact that throughout my life as a child, I never really had any friends. There […]
So I can post whatever I want… And it won’t get indexed to Google under my username like in the past? Good riddance.
I do not belong in this world. You cannot keep me here.
I deserve to die.
I deserve to die.
I deserve to die.
I deserve to die.
I deserve to die.
I deserve to die.
I deserve to die.
The tears can’t stop coming out. I can’t stop hyperventilating.
She’s gone. I’m never going to see her again. And yet, she’s alive and well.
There is no worse feeling. I thought what I’d felt last winter was harsh. But that was nothing.
I’ve lost. I’ve lost so much. Someone help me. Someone please fucking help me.
Well, the title says it all. When am I gonna learn to NOT try and pursue anything with anyone?
I would never kill myself with someone else’s gun.
Or the gun my brother bought me.