Euthanasia (Kellic)

26: The Loved

Make Sure You Kiss Your Knuckles Before You Punch Me In The Face There Are Lessons To Be Learned, Consequences For All The Stupid Things I Say

I think perhaps, in retrospect, I should have killed myself.

I think perhaps it would have saved me a whole lot of grief, sadness and a general variety of equally unnecessary emotions, but things always seem to come to me in retrospect, when it is of course nothing but too late.

I think perhaps that's a shame, but without it, I'd be depriving the world of the honour that was my utterly pathetic stupidity. I owed the world that at the very least, despite my belief that there's no real concept of possession, I think I owe the world - I owe it for giving me the option of the cliff in the dark, and my friends to look after me at night.

I owe the world myself, and I'm going to pay it back before it's too late.

It's too hard and I'm too scared, and I start to question, to scream at God as to why he didn't make humans with a self-destruct button. I think perhaps I'd like that, but I know I wouldn't have stuck around long enough to truly appreciate it; not that that is particularly a bad thing, as it is of course tiny amounts of appreciation only highlighted by the fact that nothing fucking else is worth a second of my time.

If I had a self-destruct button, I would have pressed it by now, and I'd be free from all this mess. Mess is terror for me; something I can never quite escape, despite how terribly hard I try. Mess likes to play games with my head. I'd self-destruct that mess with my own brains too.

I think I would like that.

My head aches from screaming like crazy as I long to listen to something other than the sound of my own thoughts, because it's them, my thoughts that are really going to get me in the end, and perhaps maybe that isn't even a bad thing anymore.

The concept of good and bad are as blurred as the concept of living and dying are for me now; I'm in-between - the grey, the blur, the mess. I'm amidst it all with little to no escape and far too much content for my own good. Or bad, I can't tell anymore.

The wait is killing me though; I kind of wish it could just be over and done with, but as it's been made clear by now, life just isn't that fucking easy.

It'd be too boring that way, of course.

We can't have boring, now can we? God is a sadistic bastard, and just loves it like that. He loves watching us all die by his own hand, by his own disasters, his own havoc, and his own personally designed chaos, all to add up to a perfectly planned demise for us, but I won't let that happen.

I'll go as I wish, even if I have to do it like this - in the most brutal and forceful of ways.

We have no say in the matter of how we really go, and yet somehow we should be thankful of that as well. My head doesn't make sense these days, and yet that somehow manages to provide me with the greatest sense of clarity.

Humans are just something I don't get, and yet I'm stuck as one of them, leaving me amidst a real fucking predicament right here.

And that elusive, mystical self-destruct button looks just so inviting like this, and I'm just so fucking over with this life, but Vic Fuentes just doesn't let things be that way, and yet, he does of course have the fucking nerve to call me the selfish one - honestly, it could make me laugh.

I just don't think I can manage anything that isn't ultimately self-destructive these days though, and perhaps that maybe isn't even such a bad thing, as when you just look at in the right light, self destruction can be the damn prettiest thing there is.