and without cause the misery is unending. But it's not. There's a way out.
Day after day dragging myself through this shit of a life. The only
point is that I have a purpose to serve but I feel so far from it it may
as well not exist. There will be moments of vacuous pleasure to lift me
about the ennui and endless black. And then the black returns.
I want this piece to have purpose but there's none. Just an expression
of the inner bleakness which I carry inside me, hidden under the veneer
of whatever I project or whatever people see in me.
I've been self-medicating for years and I haven't been able to get
medication recently. It's when I come off it that the reality of life
becomes so present.
Having a plan to end my life and be assisted in was meant to make this
all easier but this morning it feels like it's not enough.
So I do what everyone does. Suck it up. Engage the mask. Live the life
that my life is worth living.
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