Would I really do it? I've always said and believed that I wouldn't, that I'm too chicken, to scared of pain, too afraid too this too that, too rational, too much common sense. But those arguments all seem rather far away right now.

I imagine the reactions and they are more vivid. I imagine people's pain, the pain I caused by doing this. And it makes me feel better because the agony on their faces is that same agony I feel inside and outside all the time. Let someone else cry for once. For ME for once. Let them get angry at themselves and each other and let them try to find someone to blame for this because they fucked up somewhere and weren't there for me.

Let them beat their chests and wish that they had given back to me what I had given to them. Let them blame themselves for not loving me when they could have. Let them rail at the unfairness of it all. Let them hate me for being a coward for once, instead of me hating them for it. Let them be angry at me, want to kick me in my stillness because I gave up and didn't believe in them or me or anything else for that matter. Let them hate me for my selfishness.

But I wouldn't be there to witness this. I wouldn't know it. Because I really believe now that we stop, and we don't continue. When we're done, it's over and that's the end, we become the earth. Really makes you wonder, what's the point?