8-18-05
It's so easy to say that you don't care. It's so easy to say that you hate them. That they can just go to hell. That you won't miss them.
It's so easy to pretend not to feel. To be an insect. To be cold. To think that everything can pass you by without leaving its imprint on your soul. To fool yourself into thinking that nothing can touch you.
It's easy to delude yourself, but it's not easy to keep the dream alive. Reality presses closer every day. It crowds in on you, slowly turning you towards the truth. And one day, it all comes crashing down.
It's easy to want to give up. When your defenses are stripped away, it's easy to want to run. It's easy to flee from the world, to trap yourself inside your mind. It's easy to destroy yourself from the inside out.
It's hard to care. It's almost impossible to open up your heart and accept that some people can be good. It's impossible because they always leave.
It's hard to want to get better. It's hard to accept that you are fucked up inside. It's hard to recognize your sickness. It's nearly impossible to realize that you need help.
It's very easy to die.
Jump off a bridge.
Swallow poison.
Cut your wrists, your throat.
Shoot yourself in the head.
It's easy to die.
What's hard is living.