Author Topic: Where are you Mr H?  (Read 916 times)

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  • Hentrichian Philosophical Pessimist
Re: Where are you Mr H?
« on: July 14, 2015, 02:09:00 am »
This is just my pathetic piece; my own strutting and fretting about the stage before I am no more.

I think it's quite easy to explain why suicide is generally postponed as long as possible. It's terrifying! Of course I don't like (putting it mildly) being here, but the alternative fills me with the dread of the unknown. What horrors might await me beyond this present nightmare? I don't want to go out on a bad note. A bullet, poison, a long fall... what the **** is supposedly so easy about any of those?! I am hardwired by this physical world to be absolutely convinced that if I maintain, I will adapt and overcome. However, the logical part of me acknowledges that this cannot be the case. I will die sooner or later. My better half (gnostic side) is convinced that sooner is better. Everything will have been done in vain either way. I greatly desire to follow the urge of my better half, but again, I fear the unknown. I see the world by which I am surrounded and I see only deception and decay. Things do not get better. They break down. A wound that heals or an illness that passes is merely an illusion of improvement because entropy is constantly at work on the cells in my body and the universe I inhabit. Who can say whether the afterlife (assuming there is one) will be any different? So, I come full circle. What guarantee do I have that I will be free when I leave this place behind? In the prison of my mind... there is no guarantee, and my faith died long ago.

I slap on a "happy" mask and go on about my mundane day to day business when I must. I have no real choice in the matter. The rest of the time I am free to be silent. I do my best to fill the empty void with hope. Now, I admit that "hope" may just be some empty emotion that serves no purpose other than to prolong my agony as long as possible, but when confronted with my personal reality... what other option do I have? *sigh* I'll end up dying of old age at this rate. I am lost. I don't know where to turn. I cannot trust anyone or even myself. I am made of meat, and I am afraid. Suicide is painless? *chuckles* Yeah... right.

Thanks a lot mom and dad. You're both just wonderful. The only "sacrifice" parents make is that of their offspring to "Mother Nature". What the hell did any of us do to deserve this? Oh, right, absolutely nothing. Because "nothing" is what we were, and it is how we should have remained.
La Tristesse Durera Toujours                                  (The Sadness Lasts Forever ...)
-van Gogh.