The Darkest Days

Phuket, Thailand

You find yourself alone, always at the end of the darkest days. You stare out at the abysmal chasm of everything that was hope; nothing stares back. You would love to fade into the blackness and never be found again. It’s not because you hated your time here — its also because you can’t bear to go on. It’s more of a longing for the hurt to stop, for the drilling noises in your brain to end — its because the hurt and the pain and the suffering really mean nothing to you and will never mean nothing to anyone because that’s just the way things happened and you alone witnessed it and you decide to accept it peacefully. It’s because you realise hey, at the end of the day, you know Understanding is just a nod of the head, and shake of the hand — a look backward felt within a sigh.

People say you should go on. Hold on. Fight on. Move on. Why the fuck — you wonder what else is new in this goddamned world thats left for you to witness that wont pile heaps of sorrow and misery upon your already heavy bag of burdens. Fuck that shit — you think. It’s time. It’s the end.

How will I Go? Is it going to be the gun? The noose? The chain? The little pink anti-cutter that I bought from 7/11 for this specific purpose a week ago, but then fooled myself into using to cut open my bills that were still unpaid on my kitchen counter? Goddamn it. Those bills. I should’ve paid them, or people will think I killed myself cause I was going broke. Without a suicide note, I’m pretty sure that’s the last piece of ‘documentation’ open and humans tend to take pieces of writings very seriously, that often sets off a reaction in them. Ok, you get your phone and you pay the fucking bills.

Whew. Ok. Favorite song on Spotify. It’s finally time. So goodbye — remember, energy never dies.

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