Book of Suicide
i don't believe in God, or any number of gods, but it does
perpetrate a feeling that i cannot fully conceive. to be
unconditionally accepted, respected, loved, and most of
all, forgiven. for all of these my body has an
unquenchable thirst and desire. God, i imagine, is like a
perfect friend; he tells you things that you don't want to
hear, but at the same time provides comfort and strength.
to not be taunted relentlessly by the voices in my own
head. to be reprieved by a calming Father. to never have
to be completely and utterly alone inside myself, and
inside of my dark thoughts. a life where pain can be
accepted and managed is hard for me to think of because all
i have ever felt is pain and anguish. i'm so full of pain,
and yet i still feel empty.
i hate change. change has always reminded me that i must
not be worth much if people can so easily walk out of my
life without so much as a goodbye or explanation. i am
left to the tormenting voices who blame me for their
unexpected abxence. why must the familiar things change?
i miss how things used to be...