B
BittersweetSymphony
Member
- Dec 1, 2021
- 32
I had so many advantages going for me. I've squandered them all.
I ignore those who build me up. I embrace those who tear me down.
It doesn't matter where I'm at or who I'm with. It doesn't matter how well I'm doing or how much I'm fucking up. I'll find a way to make it into misery, regardless.
I wish this was a suicide note. I pray every day this will be a suicide note. But it's not. It'll never be. It's just going to be some more sorry, overly confessional bullshit that I will wake up and read tomorrow when I'm sober and regret sharing.
I'm still here. Why? I don't know. I'm the weakest, most pathetic person I've ever known. And every day I read about good people who love life who die way too soon. I would give anything to trade places with them. If there is a just god in heaven, please hear me. Take my life, because I'm too much of a coward to take it myself. Take it and give it to one of those tragedies, let them live again. Let them wake up tomorrow, joyful and eager to embrace whatever life has in store. And let me rest, so blissfully content with the knowledge that I never have to spend another pointless fucking day in the office, never have to fake another smile and pretend I'm something I'm not. That would be a miracle for me.
That won't happen. There is no god. There are no miracles. There is no reason to rejoice. This sad, pathetic, less-than-nothing worm of a coward is all that is, all that will ever be.
God prove me wrong.
I ignore those who build me up. I embrace those who tear me down.
It doesn't matter where I'm at or who I'm with. It doesn't matter how well I'm doing or how much I'm fucking up. I'll find a way to make it into misery, regardless.
I wish this was a suicide note. I pray every day this will be a suicide note. But it's not. It'll never be. It's just going to be some more sorry, overly confessional bullshit that I will wake up and read tomorrow when I'm sober and regret sharing.
I'm still here. Why? I don't know. I'm the weakest, most pathetic person I've ever known. And every day I read about good people who love life who die way too soon. I would give anything to trade places with them. If there is a just god in heaven, please hear me. Take my life, because I'm too much of a coward to take it myself. Take it and give it to one of those tragedies, let them live again. Let them wake up tomorrow, joyful and eager to embrace whatever life has in store. And let me rest, so blissfully content with the knowledge that I never have to spend another pointless fucking day in the office, never have to fake another smile and pretend I'm something I'm not. That would be a miracle for me.
That won't happen. There is no god. There are no miracles. There is no reason to rejoice. This sad, pathetic, less-than-nothing worm of a coward is all that is, all that will ever be.
God prove me wrong.