So there it is, I need to work a shitty job somewhere where I'm going to be called a school shooter again, or a future serial killer. That's to save $6,700 to cover the cost of my funeral and cremation. The dark reality of it, that's what it costs and there's no way I'm going to risk death in the light of my family having to cover the costs for a business itself.

$6,700, either could motivate my end, or could motivate my ability to move the hell out of hell. In such a case, the hell out of the USA where people simply force you down their roads without giving two shits about you. Nor are people willing to apologize for known wrongs they'd committed, cowards. This place is morally fucked and I've got my internal beast under tight chains where I haven't one desire to further the suffering of life onto another. That's not me. If anything I understand pain like the back of my hand. Coincidentally there's a scar there in the shape of a heart, put there when I tapped a cigarette out on my wrist. It was only when I looked down the next morning that I saw it was a heart. While laying down next to what is and has been the only woman on this planet to show my a side I never thought had existed in 27 years of solitude.

I'm not seeking help, nor do I appreciate people pushing the need for me to seek professional help. Problem is, after a solid two years of studying psychology, I learned a lot about why this world is the way it is, especially America. It's essentially creating hell on earth in a way that doesn't end well, like a grand final experiment of humanity. 

The people who've had comfort to the existential degree won't comprehend nor care. The people that do see this are the ones without any power, yet. Power doesn't come via physical action or things, it come's by standing one's ground. Knowing humanity has crossed a very fine line. Either we can allow the meaning of this life to further its state of self-destruction, or we can stand up to blatant crimes against humanity.

Only in a seriously fucked social state could one be pushed to contemplate going on with an illusion, or joining death. I've had a near-death experience, I'm not afraid. What fucks me in the head is what I learned about this cursed planet afterwords. Some of it goes beyond that of mere words.

Is life valuable, yes. Is it far more hell than should be necessary, absofuckinglutly. Funniest thing is, I'm not depressed, because knowing freed me. It was only once I knew I became socially disposed which killed off whatever connection I use to have to people I considered friends. At a very moment in my life when I'd only just become social. I've seen the angels in people, I also see demons. Never trust a smile.