Below is what I wrote on the days that I felt most like giving in
Friday March 28, 2003
I’m tired of it all. Tired of depression, tired of watching me and my life progressively fall apart, tired of struggling through each day, tired of feeling all that I feel, the loneliness, the sadness, the confusion, the rage, the ache, the pain, the emptiness of my existence. I want to drink, I want to die, I want to cut myself open and remove this cancer, this stain from my heart and soul, I want this existence to end, I do not contribute, I have no energy to contribute anything. It just goes on, one day after another, ad nauseum… I want to care but don’t, I want to have some enthusiasm for life but haven’t any.
I am suffocating, and I am suffocating, drawing in what little breath I can find in others for I have none of my own.
The It eats, swallows, consumes itself, bite after bite, mouthful after bitter bloody mouthful, only to regrow, resurrect, and become more warped, twisted, and scarred, It’s hunger and emptiness never sated, satisfied, It’s demon’s never weary, never tired.
Broken, bent and burned, wrecked and damaged, beyond feasible repair, stand and stare, feel the wound, feel the tear, open, exposed, decomposed, soul laid bare, stark reality, fates finality.
Cancelled, your time expired, your clock miswired, times extreme, primal scream, the demons dream…of eating your soul, desecration of the whole…all the parts…scattered, spun and strung across galaxies of time, un-justice and punishment of crime
Fucked, fucked in the head, fucking dead, not a word was said, to save you, to stop you from going over the line, edges and parameters not defined, truth confined, by soul death designed.
Take it, motherfucker take it to the end, swallow the lies they defend, following the rules you bend
Monday March 31, 2003
Its all grinding away, life is falling apart, I have no more heart, I want it all to end, no more room to bend, fuck it all right, give it all to god, does god even care, does god even want it, gee I don’t want this mess that is my fucking life why should god give a rats ass about it, I’m just broken, just broken somewhere inside, and there’s no fix, no wrench, no replacement parts, no rehabilitation, I’m dead inside a living corpse, just one more day, existence
How am I doing? Not so good, ready to fold my hand, tired of playing. I don’t know what or why I keep hanging on for at times, for a while on Friday I was ready to drink for just a moment of possible relief, thought about doing some cutting, but did neither and slept and isolated all fucking weekend. The bills are piling up, I haven’t been to the mailbox, and sooner or later they will find my truck and me if I don’t do something soon. I care on one hand but deep inside nothing matters, if the way I feel doesn’t change then not much else matters.
Don't let IT win...