Lethal Brain Vomit

It is strange that a thing or a set of things like data is what stops me from seeing what is beyond what human beings call death. Data that questions the memory of things like who i am what i am what surrounds me what is this what is that. Knowledge is data as well but if the thinking machine does not exist itself what am i at this right moment?

Fear should be the possibility of things going wrong after i end my life. Things going wrong would be me suffering. I cannot afford suffering. It is an experience i cannot bear, physical suffering i mean. What is funny or ironic is a very small deal of suffering that is mental or that is the tiredness of going on living is what pushes me to end myself; Yet i am afraid of what is worst. So this problem should be solved in a simple formula that is do not kill yourself do not take the control of it. If it comes from illness or an accident that is not your will at the moment. So what i am left with is waiting. Waiting for death. It is sad though to be forced to wait for death.

What makes you wanna die?

After my father died i only see him in dreams, that is the making of the complex brain circuits inside my skull. He never shared with me the knowledge of what comes after death. What if such information was sent to me from the dead, i might believe it is fake or that some other entity is trying to fool me. I am stuck because true knowledge comes from experience. But experience of death or of ending my own life does not have a way back. Once you die you cannot come back to life. And if i did i will doubt my memory of the near death experience.

All i am left with is to kill myself without thinking through it. But Fear stops me. Fear has always been a mind control in my life.

It is sad. It is sad that my fear of God’s judgement, eternal suffering or the expectation of any other bad scenario would stop me from killing myself. Because i want to do it. I am selfish enough to not care about others but to take the step. But at the same time i am a coward for not being able to try. Some girls i have encountered in my life told me about their cutting experiences. I cannot imagine how they can do it. They must have balls of steel. I cannot even see my own blood pour from an artery. i am sure i would have a panic attack, cramps all over my body, and being left with only a very narrow vessel for air while suffering my body implosion.

So what am i left with? smoking? drinking? still it is a sad story, i do not like vomiting nor do i like the idea of cancer. Just a simple headache makes my life a living hell.

All these thoughts lead me to one answer, to kill myself quick, without further thought, and letting fear aside. May be to throw myself from a very high cliff embracing this mysterious and beautiful nature that the lord has made on this planet.

I am stuck. I want to spend the night sleepless but i have work tomorrow and i do not want to spend the day weak having trouble being active in this shared world.

A while earlier i wanted to try something forbidden, a portal that might open the doors of the other worlds to me, then i asked myself, why, only because you have an ego that did not accept being unwanted, undesirable, the fact that she does not want you?

Is it because you cant stand that they have a life of their own? is it because of my inferiority complex ? being sexist, misogynist? being antisocial comes from weakness and i do not to be that kind of weak. I want to hurt others because i am weak and i cant stand them having their life easy. I want to see them in pain. In agony. But then i am sure i will be left disgusted with all the blood in my hands, all the bad smell of their guts on my lap…

It is sad though. To not be able to take my own life. I am at the same time very ashamed of my self in front of God. The all seeing eye. Because He and i, know how much i think highly of virtues: Principles like gratefulness for the smallest gestures of kindness.

A divine gesture of kindness such sharing a stare with an animal, a bird, or just looking to the trees in front of my window. They stand very tall and let the wind caress them, their sight is just hypnotic while the passing clouds hide continuously the moon and the stars.

I am afraid of the fact that my motive to kill myself is only because i fear life, only because i cant stand being lonely.

What a waste. Still, i wonder why Lord Voldemort kills people? And how come he finds great empowerment in it? i can never relate to his darkness.

Once a very young hunter, in the middle of a dangerous chase, stopped and asked with courage Chrollo, he asked him, Why do you kill innocent people?

Chrollo after such a question, found himself in a deep introspection, he thought to himself, i do not see how words can explain my motive to this kid, i cant express it. He then looked up to the sky very perplexed…

 

Self