Keeping Hope Alive

Since watching Boy Interrupted, I've been obsessed with suicide. Not in committing it myself, but in raw wonderment re: how someone could possibly do it. Let's be honest - the universe has been around for 13.6B years before you, and will prolly be around 13.6B years after you - your quitting your own life is not, in the large scope of things, really gonna make a difference.

Also, from what I've now read most people that commit suicide are victims of some sort of mental illness. A comfort to the families, but not really, I guess. In other words, people just don't up and kill themselves because of a fight over dinner.

Nobody has wasted life more than me. I was born smart and charismatic, and here I am almost 40 years later living day to day like a rat, with no real purpose for living. I have no career. I have no dependents. No family. I have no reason to get out of bed in the morning. I have no idea of any purpose re: what I want to accomplish, or why I'm here. Somehow along the way I missed out on something. I am unable to compete in a normal society; I have no idea how to function like a normal person in a successful, adult sense.

But you hafta kill me to get rid of me. Believe me, I know one day I will be a burden to my family - I suspect Brothatime!! already has a bomb shelter carved out in the woods with my name on it for my later years. Paddy Mac, sliding my gruel through the slot. But I refuse to close my eyes, I refuse to stop laughing. I'm very aware of the little time I have. I'm very aware that once it's gone, it's gone. I know I'm running out of time. I know I'm a grain of sand. And I'm very aware that after I'm gone, nobody's gonna sit around singing songs about me around the campfire.  It's up to ME to live, it's up to me to be alive. I will be a loser, I will be a disappointment. People will hate me. They already do, and they should. Not only am I a nothing, but I am a fucking burden. I am someone you have to worry about showing up in a t-shirt at a funeral. I probably won't have a checking account. I do not understand how to buy a plane ticket. But in my own mind I will soak up every second, I will squeeze all the juice from myself. I will not let myself die, you will have to kill me. Because I know we're only here for a few minutes. Every moment is crushingly terrible, but I cannot fathom the next moment not being great. And that's what it's about. The next moment. Not the last.