My head is spinning. I was going to write something long the day before I died but I keep getting headaches and Im stressing over not typing something. I have to get this out before I do anything else. This will probably be very long, hope I dont reach character limit, but I dont even know how long that is. I switch between second and first person often in my writing, something like a conversation with myself. Some parts are intended for the reader to participate, others are diatribes or reflections on my life. The most important part is that I can share my thoughts and leave this behind, forever, never to think about any of this again, as Ill have explored all that I wanted in this text.
Through sheer chance I was searching for a song because of some lyrics I remembered and I found a different song with lyrics that inspired me to post this. Also, Ive been thinking about a line in Afternoon by MGMT. "And somehow it's all the same."
Lyrics: Capsize - Nothing Changes
You're all the fucking same. Day to day, holding hope tight. And still, nothing changes. You all stand and hope waiting for a brighter tomorrow, when today just passed you by. And it feels like everyday is darker than the last, well I'm not living in the past. But this depression is all I've ever known. And hating you never gets old. I don't want to live, I don't want to live another day, with you fucking pretenders. You make me fucking sick. You bunch of fucking pretenders. You make me fucking sick. Can't stand another wasted night. I won't live another wasted life. Tell me why I should try to make change for a world who never spared me a thing. Tell me your idea of what needs to be done. Tell me when you think the war is won. In a town full of fakes, no one left to believe. When will I get my relief? You're all the fucking same day to day still holding hope tight. And still, nothing ever changes. Nothing ever changes. And still, this path I keep treading, with all of these words said. Moving on is all I have left.
I havent listened to the song, I dont even know what genre it is, but that doesnt matter. I dont relate completely to the song or anything, but it connected to part of me that was important. "Moving on is all I have left." Im not going to talk about my abuse or the torture and boredom of school, or relatives dying and not feeling anything, or hyper sexuality or asexuality or whatever else, many experience those things, as have I, and while I do not want to invalidate my feelings or anyone elses I have mostly abandoned that. There are far more important things that overshadow them. Even though the entirety of my home and school life was torturous(which is pretty much my whole life, as Ive experienced nothing outside of school and home), I seem to have forgotten it quickly. Maybe Im suppressing it? Or maybe theres no sense thinking on torturous things when its over, perhaps? I would like to think Ive moved on, but really, Ive left it behind, they arent the same thing. Ive decided to forget, rather than let out my emotions or act on any tendencies, which would be "moving on". I have never let out my emotions, its been years since Ive genuinely cried, and, other than stabbing some cardboard with a knife and slashing it with a ruler, I have not acted on any tendencies. Which really fucks me up. It is because both of these arent an option. The situation Im in doesnt allow them, and I always tend to sublimate them into fantasy(delusion) or tend to express them in writing, as Im doing at the moment. I constantly feel im suppressing my mind, like a weight on my head, like my head is empty. If I genuinely let everything out things would become very bad, for myself and others, so I leave that for the night Ill die soon, where I will feel all that is inside me. A feeling of sadness and regret that I cannot continue enjoying the things I want to see to completion, but most importantly a pit in my stomach of a familiar "suicide anxiety" I feel. Deep terror. Of my necessary suicide, which I planned many years ago, but suddenly, it hits me, I am rushed, I feel rushed, sooner than ever it is coming and there is no way out. I cannot fail, and I dont know if Ill succeed. Death brings no relief or reprieve, for what comes after. I will get into this later. If you read my name you already know whats coming and what this post is leading up to in the final 2-4 paragraphs. Ultimately, its all the same. Cope or rope. This is something many people have thought of indirectly or directly. My head is seriously jumbled and I have so many things to say and think I cant get a clear thought out but Im trying.
I think back to when I was alive. My first conscious memory was when I was seven. I woke up from bed in my kindergarten uniform, to attend the first day. I woke up before my mother tried to wake me up and I went to the TV in my room and turned on the local cartoon channel. I dont remember what was playing, probably a cgi show but that doesnt matter. But it made sense. Everything in the house I knew, I knew what was happening, who my parents were, where I was going, and maybe even what the school already looked like. Even though I had *just became conscious*. And that terrifies me, in retrospect. Becoming conscious is not my earliest memory, but it is when I truly began to control my body and think. Earlier than that I was maybe 3-5 years old and playing with a tiny plastic bowling set on some cosmopolitan magazines as my parents discussed something about me, some sort of argument. It was strange, it was like I decided to tune in and listen, and suddenly I knew what I was looking at and playing with the bowling set and my parents arguing. I understood their words and I intuitively understood that I was a small, helpless child. Something like an observer. Where did that desire come from? Literally everything else regarding my early memories doesnt exist before waking up in that bed, and, again, that terrifies me. I want you to think of something. Think of the time youve actually been alive. The time you enjoyed and thought consciously. Not work or school or whatever, those conscious moments where you werent mindlessly wasting time, whether it be doing or enjoying something, thinking, or some type of memory of peace, like walking around in your room, or somewhere else. Calculate it. Seriously. Do you know how long Ive been alive? 3 years. Maybe 3 and a half. My sun cycle age is around 19 years old. Have you ever thought about how short life is, and how fast you "grow"? 19 years is ~6935 days. Life starting age is 12 years or ~4380 days since I was seven. My actual age, 3.5, is ~1277 days. Do you understand how incredibly short that is? That is 43 months. Its no wonder that the things in my life and important moments can be recalled vividly, and it feels like barely any time has passed. Its no wonder time feels faster as I get older. Its a natural effect, and with these realizations it makes sense. I may have spent some more time alive than I know of as a large amount of downtime in school was spent thinking about myself, life, or other things. But in general I was zoned out a lot of the time. Think about something else. Something saddening, that makes you hate your life, that makes it worthless. Ive tried to think of a time where I was sincerely, truthfully happy. I couldnt. Everything was wrong. Something was wrong. The closest memory I can recall is playing sonic and mario winter olympics on my Wii when I was young, maybe super paper mario as well. I enjoy music and watch dnd content nowadays but that is not genuine happiness. Especially now that I near my deathbed. It is moving on. Always feeling rushed and trying to complete everything before I die, even before this when I enjoyed those things, a child and as an adult("adult") I was either distracting myself or deluding myself. It is a form of coping, I am more conscious of it now and the music I listen to is more of an acceptance of what I want to finish but it still doesnt do anything about the feeling of rush, as I have little time, I dont even know if I have enough to listen to all that I want to, which is deeply saddening. But I guess I shouldve started earlier. Death... people think death brings relief. They think that it is somehow oblivion, an eternal void, they think that their life is a one-off, an accident, something that will not occur again. Ive gone through many "evolutions" in my life, drastic changes in mentality and emotions, mostly in the last ~3 years or so, many within a period of days or weeks, sometimes hours. Ive experienced enough states, despite my short life, to come to my conclusions reasonably. I have spent the last few years thinking, and the last year trying to achieve my dream. It is not "success", money, or whatever. It used to take form as that but as I became more self aware that fell away very quickly. There is something Ive noticed recently. Well, it was always there but I only realized it thinking back on my life. I hate myself. I hate my delusions. I hate lying to myself. I have lied to myself, always, and that is why I hate myself. This realization is also why Ive been able accept who I am, and myself, slightly. You can say "people can believe whatever they want" but theres an underlying structure to that which grounds me, I cant describe it in words but I know when Im lying to myself. Perhaps its thinking in logical concepts of what reality is and preventing myself from believing anything else. I used to think that was terrible, and that Im not using my abilities, and that Im too grounded or attached to reality or something like that, but now it is different. I have given up on my ephemeral dream months ago. I do not try to achieve it, or believe it will happen. I do not have the ability to lie to myself, if I did I wouldve been "sincerely happy", and I wouldnt have hated myself all this time for what I do. Even my current beliefs, which I believe are bulletproof, are not certain. There is a momentary comfort in that, but doesnt sway me otherwise. What beliefs are certain? One can argue the unknown, before life and after death, is unkown, and that is certain. But what if it is known, and youve forgotten? Intentionally or not. You do not know. There is no knowledge. Nothing is certain. Well, actually, what about suffering? Life is suffering, is that certain? Or is there a type of pleasure in the experience of life, a pleasure in suffering, finding life interesting. Then, what if life is eternal? Again, it is not certain... I wonder, have you found the truth? Your truth? I wouldnt consider the truth objective for everyone, but there are similarities, with the exception of morality, and some beliefs. However, I have realized mine... all culminating in the past few days, and weeks. That is the true point of this post. It is to crytallize my thoughts, stop this massive stress in my head so I can focus on finishing listening to music and, eventually, killing myself. Or at least trying to. I cannot fail. Oh my god it feels horrible when I think about the possibility of failing. But it never stops. That pit in my stomache, the feeling of heart beating down there, like Im going to die of nervousness comes over me when I think. It doesnt stop. I will not stop thinking, at least not until Im done. Otherwise, Im a liar, and I hate myself. I hate all liars. I hope that I can send this out into the ether and move on, feeling Ive written out all my thoughts, all that I want to. Ive had massive problems my entire life being censored, restricted, never expressing my thoughts, feeling judged, insane, stupid, caring that I cant convince people, feeling like I have to explain explaining myself, justifying myself, feeling like I have to talk to stupid people, feeling like I have to convince stupid people, to talk to them. I want them to listen. I WANT THEM TO LISTEN TO ME. And so on...
And they dont. That is how it is. And its true. Nobody is truly like you, and there is no one who understands you other than yourself, but it is not comforting. You are alone. At least, I am. For me Ive made peace with that years ago since I had no one around me who I wanted to be with, in fact its been the opposite. The only person Ive cared about, maybe two actually, my friends at school, but even they are not worth it, and it was always superficial. Even they are different. Disconnected. I know we truly cant connect. It brought me joy interacting and talking with them, at least. Momentarily, and it was almost always fake because I forced myself to laugh. But only once has it not been superficial, and that was about telling my friend on how I was going to kill myself and how my whole life has been leading up to that moment and how I knew inherently it was inevitable and it was something I considered a long time ago. After that I also said I was an atheist after being confronted by a bully during a class, which was something I was always terrified to say because my parents might find out. But I didnt care. "I could always just kill myself" I thought. Im not sure if I really had it in me, especially considering that the methods I had available were painful and I didnt know anything else. Nothing came of it. But after that things became normal again, at least for them. Always lying to myself, I knew how things were, how things shouldve been, if I just dropped the facade, which I eventually did in my last year of schooling. I pushed myself away, I could feel myself self sabotaging, almost masochistically breaking relationships, or at least making them worse, even with my best friend. I made things worse. Worse for myself, that is. I pissed them off, sometimes make them feel annoyed or incredulous but never was it meant to be worse for them. I did annoying things, and said stupid shit, mainly for attention or for someone to understand me, even though I knew the truth, that there was no such thing. It was a last ditch effort. I was very sad and violent at the time, but I never did anything with that other than feel terrible and try to suppress my emotions till I got home. I distanced myself from them, instead of forcing a conversation like I usually do, and I talked to nobody(although my friends were the only ones I talked to anyways), and, eventually, graduated. Next was my delusions. There was aspirations about making money, leaving my country, finding a place to stay and have friends around my and someone I loved, to be able to drink whatever I wanted, whenever, if I felt like trying something new, to sleep whenever, to fuck her whenever. Or perhaps another path. To listen to the music I wanted, to make music, to write my stories, to make games, beautiful games, BECAUSE NOBODY EVER FUCKING GETS IT RIGHT. NEVER. I dont know why. I dont. Maybe because there is always the human element. Because it is always ruined. It is always ruined. But I dont understand. Perhaps its always ruined, because I want it to be real, and its not? It is an impossibility, no matter how perfect a world is it is not real. It is fake. Not that any game or novel has ever approached that level of beauty and realism. I wanted to express myself, to live my life without work or college, or any connections to my family or anything of the sort, college was the main part of that. To not be involved in the bullshit I go through. These were just fantasies of course. The second part, at least. After thinking through the logistics of it and how daunting it would be, and for what?? This is not truly what I wanted. How false it is, how much I lie to myself, there is no universe where I can be alive. There is no happiness for me. I cannot be happy. I cannot delude myself into thinking there was ever an alternate path, in any world, especially not this worthless, pathetic, disgusting, indescribable world, or any other. My ephemeral dream did not involve this world. It doesnt involve lying to myself and going through tribulations to "become" happy. Even if I achieved that I would still hate everyone and everything, because nothing changed. Nothing changes. The external world doesnt matter. That "success", whatever it may be, other than perhaps temporary creative pursuits, is all a worthless fucking distraction, a distraction from myself, a terrible lie. However, realizing the world and everything regarding it is horrible is not "the truth". It is a simple, yet because it is so jarring and simple, difficult realization that any honest person can admit to. As a last note on this topic, I remember that I made my choice after creating an ultimatum of "be an animal of pure instinct, or to continue on my path." Perhaps it was "die as myself", or "chase my dream with the time I have left, until I die". All three are the same, in any case. I never seriously considered the first option, but it was the closest thing to tolerable living in this world I could think of. Essentially? It was hedonism, but with an intentional abandonment of thought and just enjoying things. pizza, having sex, whatever. However, something that I *just* realized is that I didnt think of music. I cant enjoy music unless Im conscious. Huh. That aside, I acknowledged that, even though this was the most merciful option I could find for myself, it was horrible. It was worse than killing myself. A more important ultimatum was the more realistic, core choice that I made about a year ago. Ill try to describe it in words but it was the choice between my "success" and achieving them, after all this thought, hypotheticals, and realization, or to die within my time limit, trying to achieve my dream. Or perhaps it was to find myself? To find the truth? Or maybe it was to die as myself... or to die honest or truthful, either way it was a solidified decision to commit to a time limit, and I had no fear of death. At that point, that is.
As an aside, I have realized that even as I speak these words, I realize that there some things that are too personal, things that feel wrong and that they shouldnt be shared. This is connected to the judgement and censorship part, and people and the world are horrible part. But more importantly is that it feels wrong. You shouldnt say everything, its like youre trying to become too vulnerable, it is worse than self mutilation, its beyond masochism, it is like giving yourself to someone and they do what they will with you, and you are completely helpless, almost like watching in third person but you are still in your own body. There are some things that shouldnt be said. Secrets known only to oneself, things that should be known only to you. Imagine if your mind was broadcasted to everyone. Imagine having someone rip your heart out. Imagine being raped. Imagine the feeling of having your soul violated, and you did it. Does it not feel horrible? Like youve committed an unforgivable sin against yourself? Maybe its just me... because of that I wont share details about my ephemeral dream. But know that it is truly an ephemeral dream. Unrealistic, perhaps impossible. And I think my times up. As I said near the beginning, Ive given up on it months ago.
Back on track, I wonder, do you know your greatest fear? I want you to seriously think about this. Dont overthink or complicate it. If you dont know, or dont want to know, thats fine as well. As of less than two months ago, Ive learned mine. Through dreams, but not through the dream itself. I was in a monochrome dream, in a building with 5 doors, or maybe it was 7, one at the end and the rest split on each side. I went through one and there was a large clown and he had a weapon or something and I turned to leave, but opening the door and going through it is slow of course, so I had this fear of not knowing when I was going to be slashed. I left it and closed the door, but was afraid that he would come after me. This wasnt a video game, doors werent barriers. I immediately went to another room, even though I felt like the entirety of the building was clowns, except maybe the door at the end. I went in and saw clown zombies or something similar and they were coming and the large clown was also right behind me about to swing and, even though I knew the entire thing was a dream it still scared me. I thought that it was too much for me so I mentally brought up a video game menu which paused and I went to "Quit". i was pulled out of the environment, but not the dream. I thought to myself "show me my greatest fear", but it wasnt a serious request, really. I had little time till I died and I lucid dream rarely nowadays so I thought Id... take advantage of the opportunity? Im unsure. I found myself zooming through a dark space towards my kitchen which had a tea kettle and everything was dark. This creeped me the fuck out and I knew inherently that this wasnt my fear but it was still scary and I was expecting something to happen, and, since this is a dream, expectations=reality. So I decided to wake up instead. I thought about the dream a bit, irrelevant stuff but I got to the door at the end. What was behind that? I dont know if I planted a seed and I seriously wanted to believe it and Im forcing myself to believe it even know, or if its subconscious, or it was chance that I interpreted it the way I did but I imagined a black space. There was a skull on the floor, and a normal looking brown door to the right. There was something else that was personal but not that relevant. The skull had what looked like flames on the side, orangeish yellow. The flames were ambiguous, they could also look like flowers. I didnt think much of it, other than the skull terrified me and that the ambiguous flames were a very cool concept. Im not sure if I had the thought as I was thinking about it or a couple hours later but I thought "what if the skull is reincarnation?" It was a passing thought, more of a joke, it felt like a forced thought so not much came of it. A day or two, or three later it was very late at night and, at this point, I kept thinking about it, and suddenly it hit me, as I thought of a phrase I had read somewhere(maybe it was a forum comment here?). I was thinking about the skull with ambiguous flames in black space with the door and then the phrase "suicide is when the fear of life overtakes the fear of death". I had suddenly realized the implications of this. That life is eternal suffering. I did not fear death, no, but something was missing. I never thought Id find out the truth before I died, but, somehow, I did. And it was unexpected. I did not fear death. I was incredibly scared of what comes after, I was repressing any thought that was contrary to "permanent death." There is no oblivion, that comfort is the same type of comfort one seeks in some sort of afterlife. This is not over. This is not the whole truth, there is more to say. However, after realizing this, something strange happened. I felt a sort of feeling overtake me, or rather it was coming up. Im very good at supressing emotions and controlling myself, especially in recent years. I had to. But this was different. It felt like I was completely going to lose control of myself and laugh. It was like I went blank. I let out a single "ha" before I stopped myself. Luckily nobody woke up. I walked back towards my room to sleep and it was a shivering feeling. It was like an unconscious reaction to realizing the horrible pain that "life is eternal suffering" brought with it. Over the next few weeks Ive thought of some other things until Ive reached current day, and I think its time I finish this post.
Many things, many problems and such dont exist. If they do, they can be attributed to "clinging to life". There were two other things I thought of but I forgot, if I forgot them at this time then they werent that important. This has changed the way I interact with everything. Many problems can be solved or couldve been prevented by not "clinging to life". A lack of forethought and afterthought leads to ruin. While I had been introduced to the idea of life is eternal suffering, I didnt know what it truly meant, or why it made me feel so terrible. Until recently:
Life is evil. Life is suffering. There is no certainty in life other than suffering. You hunger, thirst, kill, and dismember living things for your own survival, whatever that means, for no actual reason. All of it leads back to sex. All for some strange, disgusting "reasoning" that its okay to kill as long as its other things that are dying, and that nature is just that way it is. Never questioning why nature is the way it is, or why you are afraid to die. Why you cling to life so much. Never questioning how or why you came to life. Why you kill. Why you continue to. All for some fleeting sense of pleasure to reproduce another living being who you inject into the eternal lifestream whos purpose is to receive and inflict pain, and to repeat this cycle, seemingly infinitely. In the time between, there is malaise, or dread from being hunted. Pretending you like those around you, somehow caring about them despite what they've done to you, and constantly clinging to life, for no reason, to repeat the cycle, and punish those who dont follow it. Im not even talking about this terrible world, its people, and the things they do to innocents(animals, innocent people), this argument is irrefutable. If life is not eternal, and is somehow a one time thing, the only argument that I believe can counter this is that it is interesting, and that it is better to have lived once than not at all. I agree with that. However, none of this assumes life is once. The best one can do is eat plant based foods and try to delude yourself that somehow, things will get better. Someday, things will get better. To try and drown in delusion that there is a better world out there, one that you might be able to go to. Even though you always know youre lying to yourself, to some extent. Even then, plants, vegetables, fruits, beans, etc. are also living. Perhaps not in the same way you and me are but they are alive. Life is destruction, life is pain, life is not the opposite of entropy, it is not the opposite of the void, it is not a blessing, it is the antithesis of those things. I had a thought about this and it made me horribly sad to imagine killing and eating someone very dear and personal to me, in some better world out there, that I wouldve like to go to. Even though its fake, and not real, it doesnt matter because its all the same. Suddenly I had an answer which connected everything together. It was insanely logical, I questioned whether a computer would think similarly. I came to the conclusion of "Then stop living." No life is worth it. No matter what delusion you subscribe to, nothing changes. Competition, violence, sex, conflict, hatred, apathy, malaise, disloyalty, and many other facets of life remain, to some extent. Do humans need pain to live? This world has all that and more, any other video game world or novel has these as well, but its even worse, because it is all fake. Total isolation, and you are helpless to get out. All fake, nothing. All a lie, an incomplete world made by other people. All life can only be enjoyed when not thought about, when lived superficially, these traits are the only way one can be "happy", but are also what precipitates the production of life, for the cycle to continue. When you realize that there is no beauty, there is no dream, there is no world you can go to or should go to, this pain can be far worse than something like the physical sensation of dying of thirst or hunger. There is no path to take, nothing to do. There is only "moving on". Moving on by checking off your bucket list or whatever you want to do or experience, and trying to die with as little regret and attachment as possible, which is what Im trying to do with this post and the short time I have left. But I am still terrified of dying. Or if I will succeed. And if I do, I wonder, will I wake up in another bed again? It doesnt do anything. You can argue the unknown and say that you do not know if life is eternal or not, however I view it as this, and while I dont like the concept of overarching science or the hubris that surrounds it, "scientifically" you always come back. Perhaps not the same person or life, perhaps not consciously, but you reform, into something, and do so continuously. Death is not rest. Death is not a pause. Death is a blip. Life is eternal. Life is death. Ive said my piece. Oh, actually, I almost forgot to say: Do not regret. Do not hesitate. Do not feel guilt. Do not feel shame. Be honest. Think, feel, believe, say, do what you want by yourself, with yourself. There are consequences external, societal regulations and laws, but DO NOT RESTRICT YOURSELF. EVER. Be true to yourself. I believe the only people worthy of life, or rather, worthy of death, are those who seek truth, have found it, guide others towards their own truth, or help others end their life if they are unable to. I asked for my wish, and I got it. "I want to die honest". Well, my time has come, Im dying as myself. Knowing the truth. My truth, which I believe is eternal, but of course others think differently and think its ridiculous or might hurl insults and so on. And thats fine. People say whatever they want and others can respond however they want. Im always worried about convincing someone, or explaining myself, or justifying myself, or impressing them. Surely, those wires are faulty, as I still feel that way now. But I have said all that I can, all that I wanted to. I am incredibly sad and terrified, but Ive said that multiple times already, and Im dying regardless of that. I have to, sooner or later. Goodbye. Even though Ill be back. But I hope I dont. If I do, I hope its a better world, at least. Although oblivion would be best. Time to disable my account, and never visit this site again.
Through sheer chance I was searching for a song because of some lyrics I remembered and I found a different song with lyrics that inspired me to post this. Also, Ive been thinking about a line in Afternoon by MGMT. "And somehow it's all the same."
Lyrics: Capsize - Nothing Changes
You're all the fucking same. Day to day, holding hope tight. And still, nothing changes. You all stand and hope waiting for a brighter tomorrow, when today just passed you by. And it feels like everyday is darker than the last, well I'm not living in the past. But this depression is all I've ever known. And hating you never gets old. I don't want to live, I don't want to live another day, with you fucking pretenders. You make me fucking sick. You bunch of fucking pretenders. You make me fucking sick. Can't stand another wasted night. I won't live another wasted life. Tell me why I should try to make change for a world who never spared me a thing. Tell me your idea of what needs to be done. Tell me when you think the war is won. In a town full of fakes, no one left to believe. When will I get my relief? You're all the fucking same day to day still holding hope tight. And still, nothing ever changes. Nothing ever changes. And still, this path I keep treading, with all of these words said. Moving on is all I have left.
I havent listened to the song, I dont even know what genre it is, but that doesnt matter. I dont relate completely to the song or anything, but it connected to part of me that was important. "Moving on is all I have left." Im not going to talk about my abuse or the torture and boredom of school, or relatives dying and not feeling anything, or hyper sexuality or asexuality or whatever else, many experience those things, as have I, and while I do not want to invalidate my feelings or anyone elses I have mostly abandoned that. There are far more important things that overshadow them. Even though the entirety of my home and school life was torturous(which is pretty much my whole life, as Ive experienced nothing outside of school and home), I seem to have forgotten it quickly. Maybe Im suppressing it? Or maybe theres no sense thinking on torturous things when its over, perhaps? I would like to think Ive moved on, but really, Ive left it behind, they arent the same thing. Ive decided to forget, rather than let out my emotions or act on any tendencies, which would be "moving on". I have never let out my emotions, its been years since Ive genuinely cried, and, other than stabbing some cardboard with a knife and slashing it with a ruler, I have not acted on any tendencies. Which really fucks me up. It is because both of these arent an option. The situation Im in doesnt allow them, and I always tend to sublimate them into fantasy(delusion) or tend to express them in writing, as Im doing at the moment. I constantly feel im suppressing my mind, like a weight on my head, like my head is empty. If I genuinely let everything out things would become very bad, for myself and others, so I leave that for the night Ill die soon, where I will feel all that is inside me. A feeling of sadness and regret that I cannot continue enjoying the things I want to see to completion, but most importantly a pit in my stomach of a familiar "suicide anxiety" I feel. Deep terror. Of my necessary suicide, which I planned many years ago, but suddenly, it hits me, I am rushed, I feel rushed, sooner than ever it is coming and there is no way out. I cannot fail, and I dont know if Ill succeed. Death brings no relief or reprieve, for what comes after. I will get into this later. If you read my name you already know whats coming and what this post is leading up to in the final 2-4 paragraphs. Ultimately, its all the same. Cope or rope. This is something many people have thought of indirectly or directly. My head is seriously jumbled and I have so many things to say and think I cant get a clear thought out but Im trying.
I think back to when I was alive. My first conscious memory was when I was seven. I woke up from bed in my kindergarten uniform, to attend the first day. I woke up before my mother tried to wake me up and I went to the TV in my room and turned on the local cartoon channel. I dont remember what was playing, probably a cgi show but that doesnt matter. But it made sense. Everything in the house I knew, I knew what was happening, who my parents were, where I was going, and maybe even what the school already looked like. Even though I had *just became conscious*. And that terrifies me, in retrospect. Becoming conscious is not my earliest memory, but it is when I truly began to control my body and think. Earlier than that I was maybe 3-5 years old and playing with a tiny plastic bowling set on some cosmopolitan magazines as my parents discussed something about me, some sort of argument. It was strange, it was like I decided to tune in and listen, and suddenly I knew what I was looking at and playing with the bowling set and my parents arguing. I understood their words and I intuitively understood that I was a small, helpless child. Something like an observer. Where did that desire come from? Literally everything else regarding my early memories doesnt exist before waking up in that bed, and, again, that terrifies me. I want you to think of something. Think of the time youve actually been alive. The time you enjoyed and thought consciously. Not work or school or whatever, those conscious moments where you werent mindlessly wasting time, whether it be doing or enjoying something, thinking, or some type of memory of peace, like walking around in your room, or somewhere else. Calculate it. Seriously. Do you know how long Ive been alive? 3 years. Maybe 3 and a half. My sun cycle age is around 19 years old. Have you ever thought about how short life is, and how fast you "grow"? 19 years is ~6935 days. Life starting age is 12 years or ~4380 days since I was seven. My actual age, 3.5, is ~1277 days. Do you understand how incredibly short that is? That is 43 months. Its no wonder that the things in my life and important moments can be recalled vividly, and it feels like barely any time has passed. Its no wonder time feels faster as I get older. Its a natural effect, and with these realizations it makes sense. I may have spent some more time alive than I know of as a large amount of downtime in school was spent thinking about myself, life, or other things. But in general I was zoned out a lot of the time. Think about something else. Something saddening, that makes you hate your life, that makes it worthless. Ive tried to think of a time where I was sincerely, truthfully happy. I couldnt. Everything was wrong. Something was wrong. The closest memory I can recall is playing sonic and mario winter olympics on my Wii when I was young, maybe super paper mario as well. I enjoy music and watch dnd content nowadays but that is not genuine happiness. Especially now that I near my deathbed. It is moving on. Always feeling rushed and trying to complete everything before I die, even before this when I enjoyed those things, a child and as an adult("adult") I was either distracting myself or deluding myself. It is a form of coping, I am more conscious of it now and the music I listen to is more of an acceptance of what I want to finish but it still doesnt do anything about the feeling of rush, as I have little time, I dont even know if I have enough to listen to all that I want to, which is deeply saddening. But I guess I shouldve started earlier. Death... people think death brings relief. They think that it is somehow oblivion, an eternal void, they think that their life is a one-off, an accident, something that will not occur again. Ive gone through many "evolutions" in my life, drastic changes in mentality and emotions, mostly in the last ~3 years or so, many within a period of days or weeks, sometimes hours. Ive experienced enough states, despite my short life, to come to my conclusions reasonably. I have spent the last few years thinking, and the last year trying to achieve my dream. It is not "success", money, or whatever. It used to take form as that but as I became more self aware that fell away very quickly. There is something Ive noticed recently. Well, it was always there but I only realized it thinking back on my life. I hate myself. I hate my delusions. I hate lying to myself. I have lied to myself, always, and that is why I hate myself. This realization is also why Ive been able accept who I am, and myself, slightly. You can say "people can believe whatever they want" but theres an underlying structure to that which grounds me, I cant describe it in words but I know when Im lying to myself. Perhaps its thinking in logical concepts of what reality is and preventing myself from believing anything else. I used to think that was terrible, and that Im not using my abilities, and that Im too grounded or attached to reality or something like that, but now it is different. I have given up on my ephemeral dream months ago. I do not try to achieve it, or believe it will happen. I do not have the ability to lie to myself, if I did I wouldve been "sincerely happy", and I wouldnt have hated myself all this time for what I do. Even my current beliefs, which I believe are bulletproof, are not certain. There is a momentary comfort in that, but doesnt sway me otherwise. What beliefs are certain? One can argue the unknown, before life and after death, is unkown, and that is certain. But what if it is known, and youve forgotten? Intentionally or not. You do not know. There is no knowledge. Nothing is certain. Well, actually, what about suffering? Life is suffering, is that certain? Or is there a type of pleasure in the experience of life, a pleasure in suffering, finding life interesting. Then, what if life is eternal? Again, it is not certain... I wonder, have you found the truth? Your truth? I wouldnt consider the truth objective for everyone, but there are similarities, with the exception of morality, and some beliefs. However, I have realized mine... all culminating in the past few days, and weeks. That is the true point of this post. It is to crytallize my thoughts, stop this massive stress in my head so I can focus on finishing listening to music and, eventually, killing myself. Or at least trying to. I cannot fail. Oh my god it feels horrible when I think about the possibility of failing. But it never stops. That pit in my stomache, the feeling of heart beating down there, like Im going to die of nervousness comes over me when I think. It doesnt stop. I will not stop thinking, at least not until Im done. Otherwise, Im a liar, and I hate myself. I hate all liars. I hope that I can send this out into the ether and move on, feeling Ive written out all my thoughts, all that I want to. Ive had massive problems my entire life being censored, restricted, never expressing my thoughts, feeling judged, insane, stupid, caring that I cant convince people, feeling like I have to explain explaining myself, justifying myself, feeling like I have to talk to stupid people, feeling like I have to convince stupid people, to talk to them. I want them to listen. I WANT THEM TO LISTEN TO ME. And so on...
And they dont. That is how it is. And its true. Nobody is truly like you, and there is no one who understands you other than yourself, but it is not comforting. You are alone. At least, I am. For me Ive made peace with that years ago since I had no one around me who I wanted to be with, in fact its been the opposite. The only person Ive cared about, maybe two actually, my friends at school, but even they are not worth it, and it was always superficial. Even they are different. Disconnected. I know we truly cant connect. It brought me joy interacting and talking with them, at least. Momentarily, and it was almost always fake because I forced myself to laugh. But only once has it not been superficial, and that was about telling my friend on how I was going to kill myself and how my whole life has been leading up to that moment and how I knew inherently it was inevitable and it was something I considered a long time ago. After that I also said I was an atheist after being confronted by a bully during a class, which was something I was always terrified to say because my parents might find out. But I didnt care. "I could always just kill myself" I thought. Im not sure if I really had it in me, especially considering that the methods I had available were painful and I didnt know anything else. Nothing came of it. But after that things became normal again, at least for them. Always lying to myself, I knew how things were, how things shouldve been, if I just dropped the facade, which I eventually did in my last year of schooling. I pushed myself away, I could feel myself self sabotaging, almost masochistically breaking relationships, or at least making them worse, even with my best friend. I made things worse. Worse for myself, that is. I pissed them off, sometimes make them feel annoyed or incredulous but never was it meant to be worse for them. I did annoying things, and said stupid shit, mainly for attention or for someone to understand me, even though I knew the truth, that there was no such thing. It was a last ditch effort. I was very sad and violent at the time, but I never did anything with that other than feel terrible and try to suppress my emotions till I got home. I distanced myself from them, instead of forcing a conversation like I usually do, and I talked to nobody(although my friends were the only ones I talked to anyways), and, eventually, graduated. Next was my delusions. There was aspirations about making money, leaving my country, finding a place to stay and have friends around my and someone I loved, to be able to drink whatever I wanted, whenever, if I felt like trying something new, to sleep whenever, to fuck her whenever. Or perhaps another path. To listen to the music I wanted, to make music, to write my stories, to make games, beautiful games, BECAUSE NOBODY EVER FUCKING GETS IT RIGHT. NEVER. I dont know why. I dont. Maybe because there is always the human element. Because it is always ruined. It is always ruined. But I dont understand. Perhaps its always ruined, because I want it to be real, and its not? It is an impossibility, no matter how perfect a world is it is not real. It is fake. Not that any game or novel has ever approached that level of beauty and realism. I wanted to express myself, to live my life without work or college, or any connections to my family or anything of the sort, college was the main part of that. To not be involved in the bullshit I go through. These were just fantasies of course. The second part, at least. After thinking through the logistics of it and how daunting it would be, and for what?? This is not truly what I wanted. How false it is, how much I lie to myself, there is no universe where I can be alive. There is no happiness for me. I cannot be happy. I cannot delude myself into thinking there was ever an alternate path, in any world, especially not this worthless, pathetic, disgusting, indescribable world, or any other. My ephemeral dream did not involve this world. It doesnt involve lying to myself and going through tribulations to "become" happy. Even if I achieved that I would still hate everyone and everything, because nothing changed. Nothing changes. The external world doesnt matter. That "success", whatever it may be, other than perhaps temporary creative pursuits, is all a worthless fucking distraction, a distraction from myself, a terrible lie. However, realizing the world and everything regarding it is horrible is not "the truth". It is a simple, yet because it is so jarring and simple, difficult realization that any honest person can admit to. As a last note on this topic, I remember that I made my choice after creating an ultimatum of "be an animal of pure instinct, or to continue on my path." Perhaps it was "die as myself", or "chase my dream with the time I have left, until I die". All three are the same, in any case. I never seriously considered the first option, but it was the closest thing to tolerable living in this world I could think of. Essentially? It was hedonism, but with an intentional abandonment of thought and just enjoying things. pizza, having sex, whatever. However, something that I *just* realized is that I didnt think of music. I cant enjoy music unless Im conscious. Huh. That aside, I acknowledged that, even though this was the most merciful option I could find for myself, it was horrible. It was worse than killing myself. A more important ultimatum was the more realistic, core choice that I made about a year ago. Ill try to describe it in words but it was the choice between my "success" and achieving them, after all this thought, hypotheticals, and realization, or to die within my time limit, trying to achieve my dream. Or perhaps it was to find myself? To find the truth? Or maybe it was to die as myself... or to die honest or truthful, either way it was a solidified decision to commit to a time limit, and I had no fear of death. At that point, that is.
As an aside, I have realized that even as I speak these words, I realize that there some things that are too personal, things that feel wrong and that they shouldnt be shared. This is connected to the judgement and censorship part, and people and the world are horrible part. But more importantly is that it feels wrong. You shouldnt say everything, its like youre trying to become too vulnerable, it is worse than self mutilation, its beyond masochism, it is like giving yourself to someone and they do what they will with you, and you are completely helpless, almost like watching in third person but you are still in your own body. There are some things that shouldnt be said. Secrets known only to oneself, things that should be known only to you. Imagine if your mind was broadcasted to everyone. Imagine having someone rip your heart out. Imagine being raped. Imagine the feeling of having your soul violated, and you did it. Does it not feel horrible? Like youve committed an unforgivable sin against yourself? Maybe its just me... because of that I wont share details about my ephemeral dream. But know that it is truly an ephemeral dream. Unrealistic, perhaps impossible. And I think my times up. As I said near the beginning, Ive given up on it months ago.
Back on track, I wonder, do you know your greatest fear? I want you to seriously think about this. Dont overthink or complicate it. If you dont know, or dont want to know, thats fine as well. As of less than two months ago, Ive learned mine. Through dreams, but not through the dream itself. I was in a monochrome dream, in a building with 5 doors, or maybe it was 7, one at the end and the rest split on each side. I went through one and there was a large clown and he had a weapon or something and I turned to leave, but opening the door and going through it is slow of course, so I had this fear of not knowing when I was going to be slashed. I left it and closed the door, but was afraid that he would come after me. This wasnt a video game, doors werent barriers. I immediately went to another room, even though I felt like the entirety of the building was clowns, except maybe the door at the end. I went in and saw clown zombies or something similar and they were coming and the large clown was also right behind me about to swing and, even though I knew the entire thing was a dream it still scared me. I thought that it was too much for me so I mentally brought up a video game menu which paused and I went to "Quit". i was pulled out of the environment, but not the dream. I thought to myself "show me my greatest fear", but it wasnt a serious request, really. I had little time till I died and I lucid dream rarely nowadays so I thought Id... take advantage of the opportunity? Im unsure. I found myself zooming through a dark space towards my kitchen which had a tea kettle and everything was dark. This creeped me the fuck out and I knew inherently that this wasnt my fear but it was still scary and I was expecting something to happen, and, since this is a dream, expectations=reality. So I decided to wake up instead. I thought about the dream a bit, irrelevant stuff but I got to the door at the end. What was behind that? I dont know if I planted a seed and I seriously wanted to believe it and Im forcing myself to believe it even know, or if its subconscious, or it was chance that I interpreted it the way I did but I imagined a black space. There was a skull on the floor, and a normal looking brown door to the right. There was something else that was personal but not that relevant. The skull had what looked like flames on the side, orangeish yellow. The flames were ambiguous, they could also look like flowers. I didnt think much of it, other than the skull terrified me and that the ambiguous flames were a very cool concept. Im not sure if I had the thought as I was thinking about it or a couple hours later but I thought "what if the skull is reincarnation?" It was a passing thought, more of a joke, it felt like a forced thought so not much came of it. A day or two, or three later it was very late at night and, at this point, I kept thinking about it, and suddenly it hit me, as I thought of a phrase I had read somewhere(maybe it was a forum comment here?). I was thinking about the skull with ambiguous flames in black space with the door and then the phrase "suicide is when the fear of life overtakes the fear of death". I had suddenly realized the implications of this. That life is eternal suffering. I did not fear death, no, but something was missing. I never thought Id find out the truth before I died, but, somehow, I did. And it was unexpected. I did not fear death. I was incredibly scared of what comes after, I was repressing any thought that was contrary to "permanent death." There is no oblivion, that comfort is the same type of comfort one seeks in some sort of afterlife. This is not over. This is not the whole truth, there is more to say. However, after realizing this, something strange happened. I felt a sort of feeling overtake me, or rather it was coming up. Im very good at supressing emotions and controlling myself, especially in recent years. I had to. But this was different. It felt like I was completely going to lose control of myself and laugh. It was like I went blank. I let out a single "ha" before I stopped myself. Luckily nobody woke up. I walked back towards my room to sleep and it was a shivering feeling. It was like an unconscious reaction to realizing the horrible pain that "life is eternal suffering" brought with it. Over the next few weeks Ive thought of some other things until Ive reached current day, and I think its time I finish this post.
Many things, many problems and such dont exist. If they do, they can be attributed to "clinging to life". There were two other things I thought of but I forgot, if I forgot them at this time then they werent that important. This has changed the way I interact with everything. Many problems can be solved or couldve been prevented by not "clinging to life". A lack of forethought and afterthought leads to ruin. While I had been introduced to the idea of life is eternal suffering, I didnt know what it truly meant, or why it made me feel so terrible. Until recently:
Life is evil. Life is suffering. There is no certainty in life other than suffering. You hunger, thirst, kill, and dismember living things for your own survival, whatever that means, for no actual reason. All of it leads back to sex. All for some strange, disgusting "reasoning" that its okay to kill as long as its other things that are dying, and that nature is just that way it is. Never questioning why nature is the way it is, or why you are afraid to die. Why you cling to life so much. Never questioning how or why you came to life. Why you kill. Why you continue to. All for some fleeting sense of pleasure to reproduce another living being who you inject into the eternal lifestream whos purpose is to receive and inflict pain, and to repeat this cycle, seemingly infinitely. In the time between, there is malaise, or dread from being hunted. Pretending you like those around you, somehow caring about them despite what they've done to you, and constantly clinging to life, for no reason, to repeat the cycle, and punish those who dont follow it. Im not even talking about this terrible world, its people, and the things they do to innocents(animals, innocent people), this argument is irrefutable. If life is not eternal, and is somehow a one time thing, the only argument that I believe can counter this is that it is interesting, and that it is better to have lived once than not at all. I agree with that. However, none of this assumes life is once. The best one can do is eat plant based foods and try to delude yourself that somehow, things will get better. Someday, things will get better. To try and drown in delusion that there is a better world out there, one that you might be able to go to. Even though you always know youre lying to yourself, to some extent. Even then, plants, vegetables, fruits, beans, etc. are also living. Perhaps not in the same way you and me are but they are alive. Life is destruction, life is pain, life is not the opposite of entropy, it is not the opposite of the void, it is not a blessing, it is the antithesis of those things. I had a thought about this and it made me horribly sad to imagine killing and eating someone very dear and personal to me, in some better world out there, that I wouldve like to go to. Even though its fake, and not real, it doesnt matter because its all the same. Suddenly I had an answer which connected everything together. It was insanely logical, I questioned whether a computer would think similarly. I came to the conclusion of "Then stop living." No life is worth it. No matter what delusion you subscribe to, nothing changes. Competition, violence, sex, conflict, hatred, apathy, malaise, disloyalty, and many other facets of life remain, to some extent. Do humans need pain to live? This world has all that and more, any other video game world or novel has these as well, but its even worse, because it is all fake. Total isolation, and you are helpless to get out. All fake, nothing. All a lie, an incomplete world made by other people. All life can only be enjoyed when not thought about, when lived superficially, these traits are the only way one can be "happy", but are also what precipitates the production of life, for the cycle to continue. When you realize that there is no beauty, there is no dream, there is no world you can go to or should go to, this pain can be far worse than something like the physical sensation of dying of thirst or hunger. There is no path to take, nothing to do. There is only "moving on". Moving on by checking off your bucket list or whatever you want to do or experience, and trying to die with as little regret and attachment as possible, which is what Im trying to do with this post and the short time I have left. But I am still terrified of dying. Or if I will succeed. And if I do, I wonder, will I wake up in another bed again? It doesnt do anything. You can argue the unknown and say that you do not know if life is eternal or not, however I view it as this, and while I dont like the concept of overarching science or the hubris that surrounds it, "scientifically" you always come back. Perhaps not the same person or life, perhaps not consciously, but you reform, into something, and do so continuously. Death is not rest. Death is not a pause. Death is a blip. Life is eternal. Life is death. Ive said my piece. Oh, actually, I almost forgot to say: Do not regret. Do not hesitate. Do not feel guilt. Do not feel shame. Be honest. Think, feel, believe, say, do what you want by yourself, with yourself. There are consequences external, societal regulations and laws, but DO NOT RESTRICT YOURSELF. EVER. Be true to yourself. I believe the only people worthy of life, or rather, worthy of death, are those who seek truth, have found it, guide others towards their own truth, or help others end their life if they are unable to. I asked for my wish, and I got it. "I want to die honest". Well, my time has come, Im dying as myself. Knowing the truth. My truth, which I believe is eternal, but of course others think differently and think its ridiculous or might hurl insults and so on. And thats fine. People say whatever they want and others can respond however they want. Im always worried about convincing someone, or explaining myself, or justifying myself, or impressing them. Surely, those wires are faulty, as I still feel that way now. But I have said all that I can, all that I wanted to. I am incredibly sad and terrified, but Ive said that multiple times already, and Im dying regardless of that. I have to, sooner or later. Goodbye. Even though Ill be back. But I hope I dont. If I do, I hope its a better world, at least. Although oblivion would be best. Time to disable my account, and never visit this site again.
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