Goodbye cruel world. Goodbye dear friends. If you read this, I hope you were one of those friends, who made life bearable at times. If you read this - a scheduled publication - you will most likely already know that I am dead.
How can existence be so terrifying, so unfair, so pointless, so painful, so tedious, and so atrocious, yet be filled with such miraculous moments of laughter with good friends, when you can almost forget you hate yourself and your life?
Life is full of contradictions, which is very confusing indeed, but when all was said and done, I can safety say my life was composed of far more pain than joy. Day in, day out, my mind filled with thoughts of suicide to end the pain, the desperate longing for it never more than one step away, for my suffering was too great.
But suffering is ever personal, and even through the deepest empathy one can never truly understand what another is going through. What remains is acceptance. My final hope is that the ones I cared about will accept that my choice was borne out of a desperation greater than anything I had ever known - it truly seemed the only way out. I have tried, truly I have, but I could not do it.
No matter what you do, no matter where you run, you can never run from yourself, and my flaws and faults were too great for me to conquer. I cursed the world, I cursed society, yes, but in the end those things only made it harder to deal for me with my greatest enemy: myself. And I did not at all believe that the tears in my psyche could ever be repaired. Even if you do manage to glue something together, you're a fool to believe it is not still broken. What a curse consciousness is . . . And how unasked-for. I never wished to be born, yet I walked this earth for 28 years. It was much too long.
It was never my wish to hurt anyone, and I apologise sincerely for all the pain that I have caused. There is too much of it going around as it is, but everyone will inevitably contribute to it - it seems to come with being human. This appears to be my 'greatest' contribution, but at least my contributions will stop here.
I have no more insights to offer, no more poems, no stories, nothing. I have said enough, and now it is time, through suicide, that I will never say, nor think, nor feel anything ever again. It is what I want. It will free me from the prison that I have been in every single day. I hope you can see why I judged such action necessary.
I love you.
Hak
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