THE GUN DOWNSTAIRS

God dammit, I hate this shit, here we go again. You'd think not seeing someone you care about for half a month, you'd at least say, "hello." maybe even, "how you been?" but no it's still, "you're shit, do what I say." Did I just voluntarily walk back into slavery? Sorry world but if this goes on much longer, I'll miss you all. I'm too weak for this even with everything thats happened I can't endure this shit. I can hear the call of the gun downstairs. I've always said I'm not strong enough for suicide, but if so then why can I see myself doing it? Why can I feel it? I could never before. In the head or in the heart? Which is more alive? My heart's already dead but my mind will soon follow. God damn it world, just kill me now. Am I only a burden? That's what I feel like. Why does everything cost money? Damn the industrial revolution. Why is the world based on what we can do for others? That way the rich become richer and the poor get poorer. We need to base it on what we can do for ourselves. Everyone si equal. We are not slaves. The best thing we can do for each other is to listen. Everyone is intelligent. Sometimes it takes a different mindframe to solve the problem. Einstein was a clerk for God's sake. Is there not someway I can lift this load from my shoulders, without placing it on anothers? I just want to be free, to look on the world with spectral eyes and see all the knowledge it possesses. My end is near. So I ask you to be strong. Stronger than me. Don't befriend the gun downstairs. You read and you'll judge. Just listen to the words.

For Life.

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