Sweet Release

Thoughts of the moment

When’s enough, enough? This is LIFE. So tired, so tired. It’s so heavy, they don’t tell you that in the movies. Holding it in your hands you feel so powerful more powerful than ever in your pathetic life. Others will tell you there are other ways and this may be true but you’re on a mission. A narrow tunnel vision of self-destruction, because quite frankly you just don’t care anymore. The sun will come up tomorrow and the world will go on and no one will care what happened to some nameless numbered person that faintly existed for a microsecond in this universe. The slide clicks into place the safety is off, palms are clammy, so nervous. The cold steel in your mouth, the metallic taste is overwhelming. You squeeze the trigger, sweet release. An angel cries, no more pain. The last sight is the fading vanilla sky above.

(BUZZ!!!)

 

            The alarm goes off time to wake up to real life. How sad, the nightmare of suicide is a lucid dream of enjoyment. Well back to unemployment, bills you can’t pay binge TV watching, eating into obesity. At least with the dream you felt like you were accomplishing something. Self-deprecating only goes so far I mean how much can you hate yourself really, booze and drugs are too expensive. And suicide only costs the ones you love more money than they have. Cause for you, you’d be that one with the father standing at your casket saying “What a prick, do you know how much this is costing me?” So if you do die at least do it naturally or saving a kitten from a burning building or something.

            So here we are again in the breach of despair surviving hour to hour. As I look into your eyes all I see is emptiness a bile inducing hatred of all things beautiful. Wanting to be the Devil’s w***e. A slave to a society corrupted by its’ own ambitions. A self-serving government that has failed in all respects. And instead has herded you to a cliff of debt and false hope. Feel that it’s call self-righteousness, because you feel entitled to something that was never yours to begin with.

            Maybe I should ask for help. Maybe I’m a little different from the rest. Maybe you don’t understand me. Maybe you’ll figure it out, but doubtful. The innocence is gone and the reality is the blind perception of your socio-economical belief.