I write this letter to explain to those who will never understand. I never waste a breath, I never waste a movement, so please, listen as I speak.
I have been killing myself since I was young. I woke up a living man, and went to bed a dead one. No one knew. Who cared? I don't even care.
Maybe I will go to Hell, where I can see the demons that haunt me. The sadism, the hatred, the apathy, I may see them all, outside of me, proud that their work was done. Or maybe I'll go to Heaven, where I'll have to beg for my afterlife to a God that cursed me in this one. Maybe it'll all come together. Maybe, maybe, it will make sense.
Maybe it will be like a peaceful, dreamless sleep. I don't remember the last time I slept well. Part of me hopes that the eternal rest will bring me the peace I long, desire, wistfully wish for.
Maybe reincarnation is my fate. Maybe I will come back an ant. Ants don't worry about issues as we humans do, especially incomparable to a human like me. Would I come back a conqueror? That would be a nice change. My heart would go where I please, instead of where they take me.
I write this as a goodbye. And like a voiceless dream, I am gone before it reaches your brain.
