Death is easy. You close your eyes, and never open them again. All of your worries are cast aside, your dreams and wished made reality. Simple.
They say suicide is the easy way out. The way one runs from problems. As I see it, suicide is just like hitting fast forward. It's quickening the process. Why prolong the inevitable? If people want to die, let them do so quietly, decrease the surface population. Now, before you go all Bah! Humbug! On me, consider it. It's that one person's life let them live it- and end it- their own way.
Death.
Oh, how I want it. Need it, more so.
But for me, it's not easy.
I cannot breathe, so shoving myself underwater or suspending my body from a rope has no impact. Appetite is the same: controlled by instincts, not hunger. Knives bend and bullet's ricochet off my body. Drugs have no impact, fatal injury has no power. There's no way out. I'm trapped. Forever trapped in a life I have no use in living.
Death is something I want for myself, not others. But killing has been thrust upon me. An unbreakable chain, thrown around my neck, holding me down to this life most unbecoming.
I'm trapped.
A/N: Oooooooooh! Deep. I must stress that this is most definitely NOT how I view my life. I'm an optimist, actually. So, just—be nice. AND Review. No one has. It makes me sad.