There are times when I listen to music and think. And the music becomes real. The feelings become real. Shit gets real. And I wonder, how many people would my death affect? 2? 3? Dare I say, 4? Aside from immediate family, just my best friend? What would they do if I suddenly killed myself one day? Would they realize all of the signs they missed? Would they not even know there were any? Would they grieve for years, or move on in a month, or week? Would my peers care? Or would I just become like Connor Murphy? An excuse for attention, then forgotten in a few weeks? I'm no one important. So why should anyone care? Why would my death matter, when every day hundreds others die? Why would they care that I died? Because they miss my presence? Because I had so much to live for? Because they had things they wanted to do with me, like be there when I graduate or get married, but they'll never be able to do that? Why would my life affect theirs, just because they had imagined I would have a future? Why would I matter?
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Vent
Non-FictionThis once was where I would talk about my mental state but I've healed so now it's where I attempt to motivate readers by using my experiences. Also just me talking about all the shit going on in my life. Who knows, maybe someone can learn from or...