Life is amorphous. For some, it ends before it truly begins, for others, it ends far beyond it's meaningful journey has concluded. Yet, for everyone, life is a non-consensual affliction that we must reconcile with our own feelings and consciousness. I have wondered what the purpose of consciousness is since before I knew what being aware was. I knew that I never asked to exist, yet here I am. Life is not something you are provided the opportunity to grant concent towards, but you are forced to exist as a conscious being, inhabiting a form that traverses within the limited space that human beings currently occupy. Life is a disease and the only cure is something we will all experience. I attempted suicide on September 8th of this year. I purchased a cylinder of nitrogen and constructed an 'exit bag.' I was, and am, prepared to peacefully exit this life. However, in my exit, I did inform a dear friend of mine, Bonita Castro (don't research her name, there are over a thou
I will write about things that matter to me. This is essentially to be a publicly viewable diary.