The leaves blow gentle through that quiet night,
ever buffeted by the interminable winds,
tossing them back and forth.
Cessation never comes, nor therefore reprieve,
those veined, paper-thin sheets of matter
those had been once unified in life, now dying in separation
bare no word or action to tell of their torment
for true silence is their only comfort,
and, upon destruction, their only reward.
They live, they die.
And, somewhere in between, they suffer.
I have a couple weeks off soon. I can head into the woods camp a few days relax and just never return. Solitary peaceful quiet… then just gone.
life has been really hard on me these past few days years. i kinda want to go to the library in town, check out a g i a n t stack of books, and just read somewhere quiet and out of the way. there are some books i want to read i haven’t read before, and a couple old favorites i want to read again. i’d have to walk there, and it’s kinda chilly outside, but i should be fine with a jacket. letting it warm up a few more degrees, and then i might. these probably are going to be my final […]
Here I am- again. Oh woe.
…. You know, it isn’t even that I really want to die anymore, or that I don’t want to be here, or that I’m thoroughly sick of it all yet again. It isn’t that I’m done with life or trapped in despair or mired in the worry I like to pull from molehills; it isn’t anything, really.
I’m…. just kind of tired. At this point, after everything, it isn’t that living doesn’t seem at least a little worth it. It doesn’t seem impossible, hopeless, or crushing, it seems doable and enjoyable and maybe something that I could manage to be […]
Haven’t sleep ok in months. Neither tonight. But this morning… the cold seems to be gone. My dog’s head is on my arm. Somehow, the world seems to be quiet, and birds start to be back. For almost an hour, I slept like a child. Time to wake up. I’m still afraid of talking to people.
But for an hour, everything was ok.
I’m suicidal and have been for over 30 years, living one day at a time. That method of surviving has made life long and exhausting. I’m not suicidal because of some previous abuse (physical, sexual, etc.) or anything traumatic such as that. I’ve had a great life by most people’s standards. I just observed early in life as a shy, quiet, Asperger’s kid that there was not much to look forward to other than going through the same motions as everyone else–get educated, further that education, get some sort of job, advance in one’s career, make money, and pay bills–oh, and die. Sure there are […]
I guess you can say I know what I want now. Lately I have been trying to be the social guy that gets invited alot and talks to alot of people. I wanted to make myself think that that was the way I can change for “better.” But in reality thats not me. I am the guy that is really quiet in class and when I go home, I go straight to my only friend. My computer. Thats all I want now. All I want is to be the quiet guy that no one talks to, the one who goes home and find his only […]
In your arms I became mercurial writhed like a diamond back in the bleakness of eyes that seemed sulphuric, traveling through me, in me we bathed in incense and the colour of each other danced as though invented for the moment with dark longing breathing eachother in quiet desperation and you were beautiful in your honesty and I multitudes stinging in each movement that we echoed somewhere between lives and I wish I could’ve stayed to burn alive.
Travelling on a train I wonder how many of my fellow passengers suffer from suicidal thoughts; who, like me, had considered jumping under the train instead of getting on it.
In the supermarket I wonder how many of the other customers suffer from depression; who, like me, had difficulty getting out of bed and motivated.
Walking down the road I wonder how many of whose walking past suffer from social anxiety; who, like me, just want to be hidden away indoors instead.
How many others are there who suffer in quiet; ripped apart on the inside, but silent stoicism on the outer; I wonder.
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss [her] in the weeping of rain;
I want [her] at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go, — so with [her] memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, “There is no memory of [her] here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering [her].
-Edna St. […]
The pain is getting worse. The pain is getting longer. The pain is getting more frequent.
Maybe I should keep quiet about it. A silent suicide.
Yeah. I won’t talk about it anymore. If I die, then so be it. It’ll be all natural, won’t it.
Stay calm. Patience. Just be patient. Just wait. Let it be natural. All in all, it’ll be a better memory for those who remember.
Be patient.
it is quiet. it is still.a moment of peace. i relish these moments as i wait for the world to awaken.alone, with my thoughts, and the treasures of yesterdays broken dreams. the fear has not overwhelmed me yet, and the pressures and demands of dailey existance have not started.how i wish the sun would stop its dayley climb ans allow me to enjoy this for more than a fleeting moment. oh well. a moment of beauty and peace in this dark place is better than none at all. ill take what i can get
Death surrounds me
with peaceful quiet.
Death opens it’s arms to me
in it’s dark embrace
I can feel my soul becoming undone.
Death walks beside me
Tempting me to come to him
with promise of forever
He tells me
I can qwiet your thoughts
for all eternity,
I can take the suffering away
And give you release.
I can stop the endless path of despair
which you walk upon
To feel nothing
To be quiet
To be Peacful
Theses are what i have wanted […]
So much sadness.I am going to be very quiet.I am going to be very still. If I do this I can stop trying to explain to them what the matter is,and for that matter,ANYTHING I want to talk of to them…its all no good -they do not want to know.Ive worn their love and interest right the fuck out of them .Nothing I can say about anything is of any relevance.I either go from here and wander til I find a way to live,or to die…or I lay here and die..
It’s so hard to talk when you want to kill yourself. That’s above and beyond everything else, and it’s not a mental complaint-it’s a physical thing. Like it’s physically hard to open your mouth and make the words come out. So you just keep quiet.
To the death
My only fear
I need to find
A place to fall
Give me freedom
Even if
I have lost
But how
I am the entity
Of death
I just made the
Whole house shake
Grandma with
Her eyes close
Listening
To the ghost
Prayers of death
Repels you
Go to sleep
Time of quiet
I do apologize
But none to hear
Sudowoodo ran
Never came back
Hell is a suffer
Burn me to death
The monster
Is not coming back
Monster of hell
Reptilian
Go to sleep
[…]
Alright so this is better than spewing shit out on twitter to people who know you, or potential employeers…
Anyways so I just started my new job, but I’ve always had a problem with social environments.
It’s hard for me to interact with people around me, and the work gets so busy. I end up feeling pretty alone sometimes.
Also a lack of social confidence at a work place? It’s no good to say the least. People don’t look at you the same way.
Funny thing is I used to be much better, even though I used to be quiet, I used to be good with girls! My mojo […]
hi all,
I stumbled across this site after numerous related searches…maybe it will feel “like home”. i’m turning 36 in 2 days and I never thought my life would be like this. I was always one of those positive people that said and believed things like “you determine your destiny” and “your life is what you make of it.” apparently, I’ve made a mess. it’s not that there is any one problem or even a list of problems. it’s that my whole life IS the problem. the simple fact that I exist and continue to exist is the problem. it’s beyond the point of “cheer up” […]
I know I have nothing to complain about. I am a highly successful in my field, received many achievements, published many papers and have lots of friends and family that love me. I have travelled the world.
Why can’t I make myself happy?
Why can’t I make my mind quiet down and stop these feelings of inadequacy and unhappiness? It’s so fucking exhausting to appear composed and totally with it, and I feel like such a sham deep down. I need to get out of this, but I feel so trapped at the same time.
Lately, I’ve been becoming more and more angry about my situation at home(if I could, I would leave it but thats not an alternative due to factors like cops and getting a beatdown) It makes me so furious that I punch the walls in rage and just take out my blade and let it rip into my skin and after a few seconds, that blood flowing out, the release, the peace, the quiet within is an amazing feeling. It’s a temporary relief I know but which makes me think about running the blade down my jugular and taking the escape.
my BPD wont worsen, my temper […]
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