
Oblivion Access
I don't know anything
- Jul 5, 2019
- 333
Between the narcissism, substance abuse and suicidal speech/acts I've manage to push away most of the people I cared about. The few that remain I really do not wish to burden with another monologue about how said I am - there is nothing they can say to help. I don't want to, nor can I be talked off this path, even if I haven't the willpower now to put plans into motion or I lack the nerve to pull the trigger when the time comes, I know I'd rather not exist - no good can make up for the suffering I've endured and inflicted already. The world is rotten to the core, but my personality certainly doesn't help. At all.
This forum need only exist due to the repugnant way suicidal people who aren't easily 'cured' are treated. All of us here have been failed repeatedly by this world, be it people, dumb happenstance or some combination of the two, likely only to be met with notions we're not trying hard enough and need to stick around and suffer to spare others grief.
I can only speak for myself and my bitterness, but I wish I could issue a challenge to these people. Live in my head for a year, see the repugnant world I see, then tell me you too wouldn't dream of death daily. Of course, nobody deserves such a fate. Sure, things can change, they can get better. But they can just as (more, if anything) easily get worse - and they have, every year without fail. I don't care to partake in the shitshow much longer.
And as the years roll by, I ask the broken shell in the mirror, staring back - "Why are you still alive?!" And no answer could satisfy.
This forum need only exist due to the repugnant way suicidal people who aren't easily 'cured' are treated. All of us here have been failed repeatedly by this world, be it people, dumb happenstance or some combination of the two, likely only to be met with notions we're not trying hard enough and need to stick around and suffer to spare others grief.
I can only speak for myself and my bitterness, but I wish I could issue a challenge to these people. Live in my head for a year, see the repugnant world I see, then tell me you too wouldn't dream of death daily. Of course, nobody deserves such a fate. Sure, things can change, they can get better. But they can just as (more, if anything) easily get worse - and they have, every year without fail. I don't care to partake in the shitshow much longer.
And as the years roll by, I ask the broken shell in the mirror, staring back - "Why are you still alive?!" And no answer could satisfy.