I’m killing myself in august this year. 19th or 28th of august. I’ve planned it and decided on it from autumn last year. I’m ready. I never felt fit for this world, and I’m not leaving anyone behind who’ll miss me. I already feel everyone growing distant from me, like they feel on a subconscious level that soon I won’t be here anymore. They kind of move on with their lives, detach themselves from me, sever whatever bonds we might’ve had. As far as that is curious and would be useful, it is not how I’d expected it to be. I hoped I could have a last talk with someone, but instead it seems I’ll go away in loneliness- not like I’ve ever truly known any other feeling. Whenever I’ve had brief moments of happiness, the lone feeling was always there; in the background, but sensible, giving chills like the promise of a thunderstorm carried by black clouds on the horizon.
This world is filled with so much pain, and sorrow, and hate. I don’t think people can truly love here. Even family isn’t as it should be.
I know how hurtful indifference can be. I have a brother who simply don’t care about me; probably never did. I often wonder, does the thought of me even cross his mind? Or has he forgotten me, a fleeting, unimportant person that had passed through his life, never gotten more attention than a dust speckle in a bright day. He is smart, and has a job and a future and is everything I could never be. But that is okay. This world belongs to people like him. I do not belong here. Let my soul wander in search for better places; after all, there are other worlds than this.
