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I’m not quite sure whether this is a thought or feeling, but I want to know what death feels like. If it’s just as empty as life, or perhaps holds more substance. I just want to know.
And it’s not because of the kids at school berating me with commentary I’d rather do without, it’s not because I’m tired of being tugged in every direction by people that, when I think about it, I hardly even know.
It’s not because of the sinking lump of misery in my throat when my mom asks me how my day went, and when she tells me how much she loves me. Or when she makes me feel more useless than a dreidel floating in outer space. It’s not because of her never-ending arguments over how to cook the chicken with dad, even though I know it’s not really about the bird. And it’s not because they got a divorce, no.
I’m positive it has nothing to do with how my best friend tried to kill himself, once, twice, thrice, an unlimited amount of times. It’s not because I slowly watched him turn into a dreamless teen consumed by smoking weed, because he quit every hobby he had besides getting high as the stars. It’s not because he is unreasonable beyond comprehension, not because I love him with everything. Not everything I have, just everything. The two are very different.
Not because I allowed myself to be ripped apart and eaten by what others thought of me, not because I let myself fall into a rut too steep to simply crawl out of. Not because I was so obsessed over my image that I would stare and pose in the mirror until i snapped a picture of one that was just the right hair, and just skinny enough, and too perfect for real life. No, not that self-loathing.
It’s not because another one of my friends is more unhappy than a child watching their new puppy get thrown into a woodchipper. Not because of false rumors spreading throughout her entire universe that have made her life a living hell, not because everybody but I has mentally abandoned her.
I am certain that my brother neglecting my existence is not a factor in it either, although it may hurt a little to say hello and goodbye every day without receiving any form of acknowledgement.
It’s not because my depressing playlist that has been on repeat for a week now has been getting me thinking.
I’m sitting in the shower now, music still playing, but faintly, since the gears in my head are churning louder. I’m wondering what meaning life has, if any. And I thought back on how I deleted all social media and entertainment apps on my phone and computer so I could do something that held substance in my life. And I thought it was a good idea. I mean, I still do, even now sitting in the bottom of the shower. But I’ve been thinking about what really makes an impact, and what really sticks with people.
And I honestly couldn’t think of any examples. What’s the point of shoving meals down your throat day after day? To survive? But why do you want that? And I can’t say I want it because life is great, because it’s not. In the big scheme of literally everything, it doesn’t matter. By it I mean anyone, anything. And I know this is ridiculously contradictory, but to me, it feels like this world, my world, maybe other people’s worlds too, is filled to the brim with nothingness.
I feel like I’m not patient enough to wait around and confirm my suspicions that living is more of a void than death. But at the same time, I want to know not only my purpose, but the purpose of life as a whole. Of everything. So I guess I’ll take a seat, get comfy, and put away this knife. Because, after all, why skip out on living and go straight to dying when you can do both after just a little more waiting?
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Hello readers! This is my first post, and if you're wondering, yes I really wrote this while taking a shower (I put my phone in a plastic bag). I created this as inspiration to those who feel like everything is going wrong for both them and people they care about. It's an attempt to help convince others that death is not the only option. I would love to write more, but I will only do so when I am truly feeling the emotions I pour into the page, so I'm not sure how often I will be here. Thank you for taking the time to read my support! <3
ReplyI remember being more macabre when I was younger but now only get to enjoy those concepts with horror movies.
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