L
Luna
Guest
I do not seek pity, sympathy or empathy...or anything else that ends with a "y".
Do not read this if you do not want to be depressed.
If you insist then! You have been forewarned.
I forbid you to read my words without the following music playing in the background.
It would be a heinous crime should you not!
[youtube]-EQ6eHeBrhM[/youtube]
_____________________________________________________________
What a stark contrast to a thread that I had created only the night before:
http://www.alonelylife.com/showthread.php?tid=10062
I woke up abruptly at 4 AM today to a sharp sensation in my chest.
It has now since then left me, but 40 minutes after...I lie here here, thinking, wishing and reflecting upon what the future has in store for me.
Oh how tired my eyes are, but I continue on, staring blankly at the laptop screen as I type this.
"I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing"
I crave so deeply for a release.
To finally be free of my knotted heart and my emotions which hold me captive. The thought-process that I have had within the past few months:
changing my name and appearance, moving to a new city away from family, closing off all current connections etc. can be considered an attempt to start anew...or maybe - just maybe - there is an underlying intent of me simply wanting to vanish. For the world to no longer have a single trace of me.
I am selfish.
I am going to pay thousands of dollars for a doctor to cut up my face.
I know that should it not go well, it may be enough reason for me to simply off myself. Family have halfheartedly joked about my eulogy; they comment on how I will be remembered as a sad and broken spirit.
But I know that inside, they are afraid.
When I read the newspaper, the first thing that I do is flip over to the obituaries. There's a certain fascination with reading on how these people - with their faces looking back at me - have touched the lives of so many and are remembered for their love and joy.
That won't be the case for me.
If I were raped and then committed suicide, at least some of the blame would fall onto the rapist.
If I were walking innocently down the drug-infested streets of downtown, and was mugged and shot to the head, at least the blame would fall onto my killer.
But for me to take my life into my own hands due to a voluntary surgery?
No. I feel ashamed.
I don't want my family to remember me in anger and hurt.
I won't do it. I will tell myself not to, but I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to hold myself to that.
I am angry and bitter.
Already at 20 years young, I am a bitter government office employee that works hard daily from 7-5 and comes home to an empty house every night.
I hate this world and I hate the people that inhabit it.
Should my upcoming plans turn out, then I will work towards a goal of buying a home far, far away from the eyes of society. A small, quaint house close to the seaside or in a forest, hidden from view. I have dreamt about this for as long as I can remember; to smell the fresh ocean air or to be among the song of the birds. To never have to worry or try again with fitting in or following the norm. I will not have to keep up with appearances, and can spend my days sleeping it away, or even just lying on the grass and watching the clouds. I will not have to answers to questions which trespass my security such as: "Why are you like this Luna? "Why don't you smile Luna" "What is wrong?" or people barging into my room, uninvited, to make sure that I'm okay...(among coming across other things haha...)
I work and work and work and then I will die. I'm burnt out, but I suppose I shouldn't complain. I have a decent-paying job whereas there are many people who are simply struggling to feed themselves and their children. Then there are those, who are jobless.
I wonder what will happen to my belongings after I leave this world.
I have thousands of traveling photos for which I am creating scrapbooks for and art supplies scattered all through my room. What will happen to the house that I have worked so hard to pay for? As I age, so will my brothers. My mom, aunts, uncles will have died by then. My grandmothers are very old - as each day passes, they draw closer and closer to the close of their lives.
Finding a partner is not a possibility for a person like me, nor having children. I have thought of adoption for years, but I feel that I may be too old to raise a child once I am finally content with my life - if I ever will be.
I don't know.
I'm tempted to simply sell everything that I have and walk among the earth. Live without material goods and survive on the basic necessities of life.
I could live through endless days and nights without a calendar. Without knowing one day from another. The TV will be the only reminder of what a human voice sounds like. The softness of the pillows on my bed could help fuel my fantasy of what human touch might have been like. But maybe - just maybe - I will reach a point where I will forget that I am human and simply remember that I am one with the earth.
_____________________________________________________________
I am going to regret posting this.
I am almost certain of it.
I do apologize for subjecting you to it, but also congratulate you should you have finished reading it from beginning to end.
EDIT: Don't worry. I'm okay. I actually laughed maniacally when I read over my post with the music playing in the background.
I should consider play-writing as a career.
Do not read this if you do not want to be depressed.
If you insist then! You have been forewarned.
I forbid you to read my words without the following music playing in the background.
It would be a heinous crime should you not!
[youtube]-EQ6eHeBrhM[/youtube]
_____________________________________________________________
What a stark contrast to a thread that I had created only the night before:
http://www.alonelylife.com/showthread.php?tid=10062
I woke up abruptly at 4 AM today to a sharp sensation in my chest.
It has now since then left me, but 40 minutes after...I lie here here, thinking, wishing and reflecting upon what the future has in store for me.
Oh how tired my eyes are, but I continue on, staring blankly at the laptop screen as I type this.
"I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing"
I crave so deeply for a release.
To finally be free of my knotted heart and my emotions which hold me captive. The thought-process that I have had within the past few months:
changing my name and appearance, moving to a new city away from family, closing off all current connections etc. can be considered an attempt to start anew...or maybe - just maybe - there is an underlying intent of me simply wanting to vanish. For the world to no longer have a single trace of me.
I am selfish.
I am going to pay thousands of dollars for a doctor to cut up my face.
I know that should it not go well, it may be enough reason for me to simply off myself. Family have halfheartedly joked about my eulogy; they comment on how I will be remembered as a sad and broken spirit.
But I know that inside, they are afraid.
When I read the newspaper, the first thing that I do is flip over to the obituaries. There's a certain fascination with reading on how these people - with their faces looking back at me - have touched the lives of so many and are remembered for their love and joy.
That won't be the case for me.
If I were raped and then committed suicide, at least some of the blame would fall onto the rapist.
If I were walking innocently down the drug-infested streets of downtown, and was mugged and shot to the head, at least the blame would fall onto my killer.
But for me to take my life into my own hands due to a voluntary surgery?
No. I feel ashamed.
I don't want my family to remember me in anger and hurt.
I won't do it. I will tell myself not to, but I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to hold myself to that.
I am angry and bitter.
Already at 20 years young, I am a bitter government office employee that works hard daily from 7-5 and comes home to an empty house every night.
I hate this world and I hate the people that inhabit it.
Should my upcoming plans turn out, then I will work towards a goal of buying a home far, far away from the eyes of society. A small, quaint house close to the seaside or in a forest, hidden from view. I have dreamt about this for as long as I can remember; to smell the fresh ocean air or to be among the song of the birds. To never have to worry or try again with fitting in or following the norm. I will not have to keep up with appearances, and can spend my days sleeping it away, or even just lying on the grass and watching the clouds. I will not have to answers to questions which trespass my security such as: "Why are you like this Luna? "Why don't you smile Luna" "What is wrong?" or people barging into my room, uninvited, to make sure that I'm okay...(among coming across other things haha...)
I work and work and work and then I will die. I'm burnt out, but I suppose I shouldn't complain. I have a decent-paying job whereas there are many people who are simply struggling to feed themselves and their children. Then there are those, who are jobless.
I wonder what will happen to my belongings after I leave this world.
I have thousands of traveling photos for which I am creating scrapbooks for and art supplies scattered all through my room. What will happen to the house that I have worked so hard to pay for? As I age, so will my brothers. My mom, aunts, uncles will have died by then. My grandmothers are very old - as each day passes, they draw closer and closer to the close of their lives.
Finding a partner is not a possibility for a person like me, nor having children. I have thought of adoption for years, but I feel that I may be too old to raise a child once I am finally content with my life - if I ever will be.
I don't know.
I'm tempted to simply sell everything that I have and walk among the earth. Live without material goods and survive on the basic necessities of life.
I could live through endless days and nights without a calendar. Without knowing one day from another. The TV will be the only reminder of what a human voice sounds like. The softness of the pillows on my bed could help fuel my fantasy of what human touch might have been like. But maybe - just maybe - I will reach a point where I will forget that I am human and simply remember that I am one with the earth.
_____________________________________________________________
I am going to regret posting this.
I am almost certain of it.
I do apologize for subjecting you to it, but also congratulate you should you have finished reading it from beginning to end.
EDIT: Don't worry. I'm okay. I actually laughed maniacally when I read over my post with the music playing in the background.
I should consider play-writing as a career.