Poisonous Blanket

 

If you have met people like me who like to live in the verge of being depressed, playing with life, pushing the edges to extend their world, and sometimes who push to much so that they fall back in the warm blanket, known as depression, you would know the allure of dark novels (and other dark stuff).

It’s just like you can feel the darkness wanting to suck you back in through out the pages, and yourself fighting back to it, you feel complete.

And sometimes you loose the battle. Afternoons turn to the night, nights are about expecting the morning, mornings feel like they’re rushing through life and the cycle is complete.

-I should state here that my depression is just as much as the next guy, not too depressed, not that perky either-

Suicide is my main topic for some time now; they say it is the most selfish act one can make and as the most selfish person I know I’m surprised that I’ve never ever thought about it.

When I think about it, I love life, even though I feel depressed a lot.
Does that mean I’m not actually depressed or being depressed doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t love life?

So many questions and I want the answers – I hate not knowing- that’s why I’m reading too many ill-fated books about ‘catching the bus’

Even ‘Into the Wild’, in my eyes is about suicide; its his goodbye letter to the world, his goodbye to all of the things he didn’t have the chance to do, to all of the people he couldn’t but could have become. In the end he wants to get back, though there was never a way back. The point of no return. His destiny was set before he was stuck there, the moment he left his life, he, in a way, killed himself. That’s what should become of us as humans who do not like what they were given?

It’s not right. But what is right anyway? Parents losing a child? People dying on accidents? People dying on purpose? Hungry kids, migrants, what?

After you set your mind; after you jump, after you swallowed the pills, after you take the poison, or even after you pull the trigger, will you regret it? Like you know nothing will change, now your are dying and what if you regret it? There is no going back, point of to return, you fired the gun. During those milliseconds what happens? Do you go in panic, instead of ‘in peace’…

Then are you really free?

I don’t think so; you leave a lot behind, how can you be in peace? But that is why it s called the most selfish act one can make.You only think about yourself, not about what others expect you to do. Rebelling to live, or to die.

Like everything in this world, does all of our act brings us closer to death? Time passes and every minutes counts to our death,we are our own clock; when the midnight strucks in our bodies, we won’t be only loosing our pretty dress, fancy car and buttler, we would be dying.
We would have died. After that does anything matter? Are you literally gone? Or keep going on to an afterlife?

Will you be sleeping at last?

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