welcome to my suicide page.
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October 11 2020 [18:37] i'm writing this with no clue when or even if i'll post it. i doubt anyone will read it and genuinely care anyway. nobody gives a shit. i shouldn't even bother writing this.
i can't write how i feel into words. every time i try I'm drowned by a cacophony of words that are dark and foreboding. as such, i can't put into words how much I'm hurting.
every day i'm wallowing in pain, wishing that it'd just end. i don't know how to deal with this level. i've taken care of it the only way that i know might have a sliver of helping me,
by cutting myself, beating myself bloody, and...sigh...writing... the pencil of my thoughts will constantly dull.
i have to keep it sharp. every twist in the sharpener slowly whittles away at the life i have left.
one day, the pencil will run out of lead, with no more room to be sharpened, and my life will end.
i had done better recently with stopping to cut myself. i just relapsed a few minutes ago. i carved three words into my bicep,
and slit my forearm until it turned red. i feel numb. i feel completely alone in the world, and i feel utterly hopeless.
i feel like i've been tied to a weight and left in the ocean to sink. i grasp for air, but there's nothing there. i claw at the rope tying me down, and nothing happens.
i just descend slowly into the black abyss below. this morning, i felt the lowest i've felt in months. i haven't actively tried to kill myself for maybe a month,
but today, i just slit and slit and slit. the water around me is going to turn red. i want to be dead before i hit rock bottom. once i hit that there's no way i can get back up.
i'm drowning in my own blood. i'm drowning in my own thoughts. each insult is like a punch in the gut. every single one just sticks with me.
they're like leeches. they stick onto me and suck the force that gives me life out of me. i feel hollow. everything doesn't feel real. i just want my world to end.
i don't want to get help anymore. i don't see a point. i'm too far gone to even try. i'm far too worthless for anyone to waste time on. I'm choking on my thoughts.
My hands are around my neck, desperately trying to force them out of my throat. i can't let them release. i'll be ruined. everything will be worse than it was before.
i feel like my will to live has left my worthless body. all that's left is the shadow that is casted over me by my thoughts.
everyday those clouds rain insults down onto me until i can't take it anymore. i can't stop them. i thought i could have. i thought someone could be my umbrella and shield me.
that won't happen. if anything, it's the contrary. it's like a thunderstorm. every week the lightning strikes, and the thunder rolls out.
the lightning strikes my heart. it gives me the sensation that i'm nobody, that nobody will care should i live or die. everything positive that anyone tells me is a lie.
every time i'm told that someone loves me, it feels like a kick in the teeth. i know it's not real. everyone's just lying to me to make me feel better.
i feel like i'm lying on a beach. the sand are the positive things. they surround me, and are everywhere, yet i don't appreciate them. the waves of doubt come rolling in.
they knock down my castle of positivity. it washes the ruins of the castle away. leaving me with nothing. i build it back up, it gets knocked down.
repeats every time the waves come.
i've given up on trying to rebuild my castle. there's no point. there's no point in doing anything. everything will be worthless in the end. nothing will matter.
i can't consider my death to be suicide. it's homicide. the world killed me. the world didn't notice. the world didn't care. everyone will be better off without me fucking everything up.
everyone will be better off forgetting me. i stand for nothing. everyone associates me with being dark. every single person. friend or foe.
i could try dig my way out of the quicksand that i'm sinking in, but i don't have any of the tools. i'm better off holding my breath and letting it run out.
the world is better without me dragging it down. everyone won't have to worry about me anymore. i don't even deserve to be worried about.
i don't know what will happen to me when i die, but i'm sure it won't be as low as this world is. i want to be able to smile. i want to be able to fly.
i want to be able to be free. i want to explore the afterlife in its' never-ending road trip. this world has led to my death. whatever comes next will be my haven.
i want to relax for hours by the side of a beautiful lake up in the clouds. i want to be able to leave this world and bring none of my worries with me.
all my problems will be fixed. i want my soul to float out of my bloodied, battered body and float to freedom. i want to go into the light. i want to die.
i can't bear having any of this pain for any longer. i feel trapped. i'm imprisoned in my own skull. i'm tied to a chair and left to watch me live the rest of my life on autopilot,
being insulted, blaming myself, everything. i scream out for help, but all i hear are echoes in the dark cavity in my head. i tear at the ropes,
but when i break free, they just come back stronger. my warden holds the key to the lock to release me. the warden is myself. i hold the key. i can't use the key.
i need a gun. i need to blast a hole through my skull to free myself. i need a rift in my mind to tear through my brain and separate my soul from my body.
i can't free myself. i can't go out and actively try to die. i'm still tied up. yet, i wish that one day i'll wake up and be free from my shackles and let out to go do what i need to do.
i want to be free. i don't want to be fixed anymore. if you're reading this, this was intended to be my suicide note. i guess that's it from me.
if i don't die, i've posted this because i want to try an attempt at releasing all this pain that's built up over the last seven years.

i talked yesterday about all the shit i was thinking, i’d go into it again, but i won’t to save you time. if you want to, you can combine these entries mentally. and start right here: anyway, i figure it’s time to put an end to it. tomorrow after school, since i’ll be home alone an hour and a half early, i’m going to take as many painkillers as i can put down. everyone was right about me. i’m sure that a load of people are going to read this and talk in the comments and guestbook about how they hope i’m safe and all that shit. you all know that’s not true. you’re just saying that. there’s no meaning behind it. i’m nobody in this world, and a world without me will not change. what change can one measly person make? nothing. i am nothing. i don’t deserve to live in a place like this. it’s too good for me. everyone is better than me. if i felt equal, this wouldn’t be happening. if i was treated like i mattered and not like some pawn, this wouldn’t be happening. it feels weird to me. i’ve always had spectacular scores in school. what do i get for it? nothing. nobody gives a fuck. living life is worthless. i’ve lived like this for seven long years. i’ve been craving death since twenty-sixteen. i’m finally getting what i want. i’m going to go to my place, where i can do anything and be anyone. hell, before i transcend, i’ll go around and give a last goodbye to some people. you’ll know it when you feel it. i’ve had quite the life, and i’m not going to be here for it to get worse. death is going to be better than this. i’m getting what i want. don’t miss me. you won’t miss me, that doesn’t mean i won’t miss people. to those people, and you know who you are, i’m sorry. some of you are mad at me, it’s my fault. everything is my fault. believe me, i really tried to stop this. i really did. you all are going to be blindsided by this. if any of you had paid attention, you would have seen the signs. i’ve worn long sleeves every day for two months. i’ve been in my room almost all day every day for eight months. i have a knife collection. i stopped caring about shit, like my hair. i stopped cleaning anything. for the last 2 months, i’ve just been in bed all day. nobody noticed. if and of you all read this site, you’ll see what my last five months were like. to anyone else, fuck off. don’t try to hack this. if you do, i will personally ruin your fucking life. i’m sure the police and the sort are going to be reading this. guys, don’t bother. this is a suicide. don’t look into it more. should i survive, that means i won’t be back on this site. my reality as i know it will be over. i think that’s about it. thanks to everyone for making these 16 years bearable for so long. goodbye.