Suicide, for me, is always a beautiful and pleasing thought. It is the only place where I have control; where no one can tell me anything, persuade me to do anything, force me to live with society's inevitable conformity. In my suicidal thoughts, I can go anywhere, I can pick the place, the method, the last journey, which continent it will be on, or which body of water it will be in. I am King in my suicidal thoughts and planning.
The reason I contemplate suicide is because I am not a person that compromises well, if even, at all. I have to have things my way or NO way at all. I have to have the perfect job, or NONE, at all. The perfect boyfriend, or none at all, the best grades or none at all. I have a dirty and vile mouth. No one can tell me that I am wrong, because I am ALWAYS right. Because of this attitude, I am hated by many, I hate my Mother, she hates me, none of my family reaches out to me, for they would rather not see, or deal with this complex attitude, I own. I have a feeling that the world owes me so much, and gives me nothing. I dislike (truly dislike) people. I have an inferior complex that I hide with attitude, demands, and aloofness. I hate myself intensely, as I hate others. I prefer to be a bum than to be a McDonald's server. I want so much more for myself and it is not happening quick enough for me. I am jobless, I sleep all day, I do not go out, I have nothing and no one to live for. I do not feel love, so I entertain grandiose thoughts of escape.
Therefore, this is the reason I understand suicide, the need for it, and the willingness to do it. Life is empty and loveless sometimes, for so many. It is a circular agony of nothingness, emptiness, hatefulness, etc. However, when it comes to advising suicidal persons, I am quite the hypocrite. I say, stay, life is good, someone will miss you, you are worthy, you are great, people will miss you, all the polished lies, and expensive rhetoric. But, I mean none of it, secretly I am their cheerleader, and well-wisher.
I have a Grandmother that died a year ago, and I think always of her love, her soul, her worth. She, worked her whole life as a maid, for a hotel; she died poor, working, no home, no car; she lived her whole life toiling over life and rearing children and grandchildren. She died alone with no husband, no one to save her from life. Everyday, I go about "living", and I don't think of dead loved ones, when I eat ice cream , watch a film, read a book, study, they never enter my mind when I am living. Is not their life valuable? Of course it is, but we are humans, we could only care so much, or devote a certain amount of time to one thing, so our love is limited, or sometimes not at all. So, when I tell suicidal friends to go on living, I cringe inside. Who could love them unconditionally? All loves are based on conditions; I will marry you if you don't cheat... if, if, if, if!!!! And we cant remember forever, for our mind dies as well. Life, is shit sometimes, let's face it. So, if early check-out is your wish! Then please, bow out, beautifully! Just, don't ask me for advice, for I'd only convince you to continually to live on miserably.
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
![[Image: bighug.gif]](https://gayspeak.com/images/smilies/unsorted/bighug.gif)
