In all honesty I have never wanted to kill myself more in my whole life than I did last night. The one person I trusted and loved more than anyone else ...well she broke my heart. She is...well she was the best friend I've ever had. I don't know what I am going to do without her. She is the reason why I didn't SI so many times. She is the reason why I didn't take my own life many times. Now she doesn't want to talk to me, so what do I have left to keep me living? Why am I even still alive anymore? What is the point?
I was reading Macbeth the other day and an interesting speech came up that I was really thinking about.
"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
It is saying basically that life is worthless. We derive from dust, live our lives and then what happens? We die and some new fools come to live and do the same thing. There is no point to life.
I'm done now. Sorry.