Failed Attempt

Fellow Readers

Well its been about 4 days now in my attempt of calling things off.

I tried. 

I sliced.

I bled.

I'm beginning to be enticed by the taste of my own blood. It tastes of freedom. Liberty. An escape route. I am quit fond of it. It's more comforting than you'd think.

Bandaged up now I feel more useless and incapable than I ever have.

I failed.

Again.

Yet another disappoint that I must wake up with once more.

So I slice...Opening the flood gates of the crimson liquid that holds my fate. Looking at it makes the disappointment go away. Its blissful and appealing to me.

The warmth is comforting.

So I continue.

Sometimes I think back to when life was simpler, when I was younger. Naive.

I didn't see the point. Like most of you do.

"Why would you not want to live anymore, if that thing (whatsoever) has really got a toll on you. Then get out, talk to someone. Get help.

Better yet those feelings of despair will pass, and you will return to your normal self".

Sounds legit. I'm not going to deny that it does make sense. 

But.

Not once did I think that I could feel this way. It is incredibly different when you're on the outside.

But inside, I am completely engulfed in an abyss of darkness. Consuming me alive.

I don't have another choice. I can never recover from this. I will carry these emotions inside of me forever.

Which I cannot do. I am already in hell, I am not about to extend my sentence. I must reduce it. I need to get out of here.

 A couple of weeks ago my father hired me, to work for him in his logistics business. 

You may think that this was a positive maneuver. I think not.

When I would arise in at the crack of dawn, with certain duties to fulfill I become angered with my own actions.

I saw no logical reason to arise.Why am I getting up? Why am I beginning to get attached and consumed by this pointless lifestyle of man. Why am I being a part of society?

It kills me, that because I have something to look forward to I am in fact destroying what I stand for.

Life is stupid, it's useless. Pointless.I don't want to be a part of it in any way or form.

Being occupied with something makes me feel some sort of an attachment or bond to life. Thus going against my very distinct motto.

I don't want to talk to anyone, I want nothing more but to be no longer here. These feelings are so matured,so concentrated, that If ever I oppose I feel a lot worse than I ever have.

Long story short. I stopped waking up. I just lie in bed now. Uncommitted to anything.

Somewhat a sense of comfort in my burden of a soul. Still I cannot bear it. Waking up. Facing the world.

The moment I open my eyes, before I realize what I am. That golden moment between sleep and consciousness. A blissful emptiness.

It is all I look forward to each and everyday. Before I realize my story, and who I am. Then it hits me with a thump.

"FUCK .I WOKE UP"!!!

So I bleed. Internally and Externally.

It only seems appropriate.

Don't you think.

Then again, fuck your opinion.

Thank you for reading.

Grandad.