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#selfconflict
Sometimes I think about dying in my sleep Working up a way so that they won't be ashamed of me Instead of strung up by the ceiling fan maybe I could go in peace Then I wonder what kind of note I'd leave Saying don't blame yourself this is how it had to be The days drag on and the blood becomes a coursing stream The blade slips from my fingers being the end of me Because a bullet to the brain would be too gruesome for them to see The lines spell out **** me please" It's all ruined now life just isn't worth living So please just ignore me Try to block out my loud depressed weeping The pills make it worse and therapy isn't helping I don't wanna die but this is what became of me What the voices in my head are telling me to be So now I promise I'm not gonna leave Because death is too easy The real challenge is living So I'll live but only because I love you
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Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 6:06 AM UTC
I promise
I realize I am too compassionate; I feel everything at a 100% rate, and I loathe it so much. Why do they come on so strong all the time; it mentally drains me. I am destined to die early; I can't see myself living past my mid-thirties. I learn how to accept death as it is, and I am slowly learning how to let go. I want to cry, I want to scream; I want to voice out this indecipherable torment inside of me. But no one will understand, and no one will know; this mask of mine can't be taken off. It is what I desire, yet I want to scream the truth out to the world; my alternating flow of thoughts, my constant battle; it goes down with me to the grave. This happiness is an illusion; There's a second mind that takes over, and blocks away all of the hopelessness. It brings forth a temporary elation, a nonchalance, a pretentious ease. Is this better? Does it make me better? Or does this delude me to the point where I become more destructive and cause more harm than cure? Why does my mind run so much? Why does this version of me exist? Because I am born empathetic. Because I am human. Because I hold a great understanding of myself, and a greater awareness of how I am. But not behind in the how it came to be. No one holds the answer, and I am forever left with questioning all these endless why's and how's. Everything else is left unanswered perhaps until the day I die. — Y.H. the end of the tunnel, gentle fervor.
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
the end of the tunnel
Don’t be a pile of bones! Be something! Do something! Make it worthwhile! Just don’t be a pile of bones! But what if I am? What if I want to be? Don’t be foolish! That’s INSANE! Of course I don’t! But do I? STOP IT! Those are crazy thoughts! Am I? Of course you’re not! You are perfectly normal! Then why are we having this conversation, Yet again? Aren’t we one in the same? STOP IT! With those questions! Why don’t you stop with that screaming, then?
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Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 5:37 PM UTC
Another Fight