I hear my own heartbeat. Its beats on. Loyal and true. Until it too will one day tire and rest.
The silence is thick and nights like this i think about the futility of existence.
I crave touch. Of warmth and familiarity. And it's now the very thing denied to me.
How meaningless is the dreary cycle.
When Robin Williams left us, my first thought was - oh how brave. Then came envy.
Unless you have been clinically depressed, you will never understand how gargantuan a feat it is to be happy. And like an erotic thought, the seductive allures of suicide flits in and around the concious and unconscious mind. Its tendrils lovingly caress and wipe away tears. Easy way out? Not by a longshot. It takes a lot of courage to take the cowardly way out.
Williams didnt want for anything but escape. As a lesser person, I have much to want but within the abyss of our souls, we seek the same death of personal demons, even if it means We lose ourselves in the process.
"Dude, get help". Said one person. I feel less confident.
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