(Die)ry.

7/23/2015

I'm about to lose myself.

I can't take this anymore. I'm gonna flip out. I hate everything about my existence.

It's like everyone is building this ladder, with their own bare hands, up the tree, to the noose I'm gonna use later on.

They don't care half of the time.

The other half of the time, they're caring just enough about everything else.

It's like I don't matter.

Or, I am matter. I am only matter.

I am just a piece of matter that takes up space and sometimes gets in the way.

I hate my whole existence. I just want to not exist anymore.

I can't say I'm afraid of dying, because that's not entirely true. I'm more afraid of some of the people I leave behind thinking that it was their fault. It's not.

It's entirely my decision. It's what I want. It's gonna happen by my hand. It's not anything that can be controlled by a prayer, a pill, or a pat on the back. It's real and it's here...

And it's all up to me.