I wake up daily, but I am barely alive. I complete tasks, but I am barely content. I am filled with contempt for myself, for what I have become. I have nothing that I am proud of. I have lived all my life afraid of the authority. Why is it so hard for me to feel better? With every problem I solve, another takes root and I am engulfed in its flames, forever. I do not know when I can rest peacefully.
As I write this at 3am, I ask myself: “What am I still alive?”. Too scared to end myself and too tired of failing life, I am crushed by my thoughts.
Nothing seems bright anymore. I am too distant from anyone to talk to, no one I can take help from. My friends; they left me hanging to the last bit of hopes when I needed them the most.
I have never felt love, love that lets me cry my eyes out on a warm lap, love that reassures me that I do not have to push myself so hard everyday. I wonder if there’s any hope for me to feel love in this lifetime. I weep when its dark, when everyone’s gone to bed. All I can do is sit at the computer and write about my pain. I have lost all hope in finding anyone I can talk to.
Am I going to live such a mundane life? None to care for and none who care for me? I do not want such a life. Walking on the edge of a mountain is not what I want for the rest of my life. Such luck is mine, a waste of time. Should I make the decision? do I end it all? I do not know.. maybe when the last bit of hope fades away, I shall do the deed.