I'm dying in this life. If I were trying to get everyone attention, If I were thinking this wouldn't help... would I even take the time?
If I were thinking clearly, you!, I would tell that I wrestle alone in the dark, in the deep dark , and that only I can know the way it feels... Only I can understand my condition, this continuous suffering...
People live with the threat, people tell me their live with the threat of ...well, you know!, and I live with it too, with the threat of my extinction, of being clueless and, yet still hopefull, really tired of it all...
...And they're still wondering, I guess they do, they're still wondering why do I carry on with this, why do I keep trying the same ways and the same people and the same.. stuff; and is because I choose not the suffocating anaesthetic of the model life, but the violent jolt of the one I have, that is my choice. And for Christ sake, yes, even the very lowest and dark is allowed to say something in the matter of his own life.. I wish, for your sake, you all, I could be happy in the quietness that someone dare to propose, but I just can't, I can't...
But if it is a choice between this so called model life and death, I choose death...












