Sometimes life feels meaningless. We wake up in the morning with the day already set. Same routine. Make breakfast, meditate, work, food, exercise, entertain, repeat. If we slightly break the cycle it feels like a break from the monotony of the world. Fresh perspective. Something new and inspiring. However, even this is the same place we’ve all been. It comes and it goes. Then, you’re back in the same cycle. Rinse wash repeat. Fall asleep, eat, jerk off. It’s enough to make someone insane. When an emotional rollercoaster hits you fall down. You can’t get out of bed, you feel like you want to end everything, you don’t talk to anyone. You just push it away until you can’t deny the reality. It’s staring you right in the face. The inevitability of your own death. The probability of finding meaning in an infinite cycle meant to keep you distracted and caught up. Transported from thing to thing. Falling asleep as you're talking to people. ‘Hey, what would you buy with $$$$’. I need a new reason. or something. not that that’s what it’s about. but i know it’s not about this. Feeling alone. Isolated. Scarred. Unimportant. Trapped. Afraid. Impressionable. There’s no end. There’s no beginning. Just a long winded speech with no conclusion. Everybody has their own interpretation but that doesn’t mean you can listen all the way through. I don’t have an objective feature of reality substantiated in my mind. Minus the fact I exist. And the people around me do for reasons that aren’t obvious. The only obvious truth at this point is you can delude yourself into fairy tales and cheat death by adopting the collective imagination of your culture. Why can’t I? Maybe I’d be happier knowing death isn’t the end. What comes next is strawberries and gumdrops. Maybe it is. However, it is unlikely my culture ‘struck gold’ and deterministically received their eternal ticket from their peers and family. Probabilistically speaking this is very unlikely. Maybe even impossible. While it’s likely something is residing over us right now and observing our behavior. Seeing what we do. It’s hard to believe IT IS what IT IS. My culture describes it akin to ghost stories and fairytales. For years I’ve been in the closet about this. Maybe it’s my ego. However, God, with all respect, you’re not what the people around me describe. And if you’re up there, thank you for the opportunity to live out this strange existence despite the fact I dread it. Right now is just a difficult time, ya know? With all the cancer and anxiety. Considering the point of view I am writing this from I can’t exactly be upset with you.. considering i don’t really think there’s anything up there and this is just human fragility and nature running its course. That’s how it should be. Despite how painful. I’ll experience the same fate one day. The knowledge of my own death does make me wonder. How should I live now? It seems like that’s not even up to me at the moment. I’m full of hatred, resentment, anger, sorrow. The people around me tear me down. I tear me down. I just want a momentary release. Sex. Someone to hold. Something to smooth the pain. It never goes away. All I can do is cope. If I knew that race would’ve put me in this position, would I have done it? Idk. But it did show me you need more than one way to cope with anxiety. When it’s to the point where I’m sitting around complementing suicide and fantasying about swallowing pills and drifting off for forever, you know it’s bad. Just a minute ago I considered taking the kitchen knife and slashing my throat. Although that would be a pretty gruesome way to go. I wouldn’t mind just kniking a little bit of skin for the thrill. Feel alive :) Also, I fantasized about going out into the mountains where no one would find me and making it look like an accident. Take a bunch of pills and make snow angels. It seems like swallowing a bunch of pills is the consensus. Bullet to the head seems too crude and straight edge. I don’t think I have the balls to pull that off. Also, I’ve been thinking about looking up different methods but out of fear someone finding out I decided against that. However, this is the first time I’ve ever put these fantasies out into the world, so to speak. Maybe it’s a wash. At the end of the day, I wouldn’t pluck myself from this place forcefully. However, I enjoy fantasizing about it from time to time. Also, there’s some strange solace in knowing it’s an option and there’s always a plan B if things go really south. Honestly, part of me is ready to test the limits of myself but push beyond whatever the fuck i’ve been doing. That’s okay :)