People might think it strange to my friends that I am jokey and stuff

My desire to die is no longer a dirty little secret.

I want death. People now know it. They don't know just how much I want death and for how long. I have always been a troubled, tearaway. The result and the inner experiences have left me weary and like a wounded soldier. My bones are broken and blood is pouring out, metaphorically speaking. I can not take this slow death any longer. That is all that I see of the rest of my life.

Sent from my smartphone