I want to kill myself. I hate existence and life with every carbon particle that composes my being.

But I'm too afraid to exit, and I feel like I already know what awaits on the other side. More bullshit.

Why is everything so unbalanced? Bad things can be so much worse than good things can be good. Bad things can ruin anything good, and nothing good can make up for some bad things. "How many hugs and kisses can nullify being locked in an Auschwitz gas chamber?" - Something I've heard from someone a long time ago that only started resonating with me recently. No 'good' thing brings me enjoyment anymore, and bad things never stop stinging. Where's the fucking consistency?

And my own problems? Forget trying to fix any of that shit. It's so underwhelming yet irreparable, nobody has a fucking solution no matter how hard I look or ask. I try to fix this or that, break it down, think about it, whatever. I never get fucking anywhere with it.

Every time I reach for help, I realize what my issue is, because I'm told to have something I don't. Passion. Then when I try asking about *that* problem, I'm typically met with a resounding "Fuck off" each time.

I need to start realizing how pointless it is to live out life anyways, so I can better convince myself to shoot myself in the head already and end what's been over since the beginning.