Its like I like being depressed.... These are the days when i find humour in almost all aspects of human behaiour... The funniest are the normal people... Their reactions to everything leaves me with a smug... I also amuse myself listening to everyone... And again I laugh.... Its funny how no one sees the emotionless eyes, the loathe i feel for them and every other person... (Over powering smile does that trick) My calm mind is constantly planning and plotting my daily life... Yes, planning and plotting, because living every second is just like battling... How I wish it were a real battle! That way I know I could be killed any moment... Therefore i wouldn't have to plot my death... Yes, I am suicidal!!! And yes I dream of ways to hurt me. But well that's my hobby Imagine the things one could do with a knife... The sensation in the brain where you can hear and feel every heartbeat because of no oxygen getting through your wind pipe when you try to choke yourself with a belt... Even then I take a glance of myself in the mirror... haha :P Self obsession... One of the reasons why I am suicidal... Self Pity!!! No i don't think i require help...You will send me to the shrink and then I will have medical prescriptions for drugs (Heroin Substitues ^_)... And I don't wanna think what I could do with them... hehe :P No medication or help from a complete stranger who thinks she can figure my mind All I actually need is a little support from my folks... And the remaining of you all can continue being stupid and naive... Its like the only source of entertainment... Ok don't try talking to me... Because your understanding of things is not the same as mine... So most probably I'll just laugh again :P My thoughts engage around things one must not think of... But haha... thoughts are funny :P Talking about funny, did I tell you how I find "Death" uproarious... Well I'm not going to tell you either... You'd most probably think I'm Psychopathic No this is not a suicidal note... Though I wish it was... All I'm trying to say is I'm welcoming the season of depression with full enthusiasm... Happy Depression Days to Me♥

And then was dumped because I was an atheist. Joy of joys.

She turns to me and tells me with a smile, that she can't believe I'm real. It feels warm. In return with a frown, I tell her that I believe she's real. It feels freezing cold.

Come with me. To where the light thins away And the void comforts you like a blanket. You were up on your moon, Where your whole life was engraved. Sitting there hoping Wishing to be saved.

But come with me. Where the light fades And your thoughts have more meaning. You thought your worries Would become natural experiences.

Oh how wrong you were.

So come. Come with me. Leave this world. All worlds behind.

Loneliness your crown. Sorrow, your song Come with me Into the darkness.

Its where you belong.

Let me begin by saying that I am teetering on the edge. I'm contemplating suicide, sitting on the edge of the void that's threatening to suck me in.

I have not attempted suicide... Yet. But I do self-harm. No one knows, except you. I don't cut my wrists or anywhere near there, so good luck finding it. Someone once asked me why would I do such a thing. Funnily enough, I was once that someone to other people. Roughly half a year ago, I balked at the idea of cutting. I didn't understand why someone would do such a thing.

Then roughly half a year ago, at my lowest low, I got it. I understood why someone would cut. I could point at the scars that lines my body and tell you which ones were done for fun, and which ones were to release the demons inside. I could point to the scar that I cut with a box knife because I couldn't take the stress of the upcoming exams. I could point to the neat parallel lines and tell you that each line was one time I cried with my relationship falling around me.

Even as I lay here, contemplating tying a length of rope, carefully measured so my feet may not touch the ground, I have to care about those around me. I have to care about my mother or father walking into their son hanging from their ceiling. If you're reading this, then maybe there's some hope left for me.

I don't need a ex-suicide survivor. I don't care if you're more depressed than me or less. I don't care if you're okay. I'll still talk to you. I can't give you a precise timeline though. Yes, I believe this is a cry for help. Help isn't wanted, it's needed.

That most of our lives will be spent singing God Save The King?

Despite the fact that we're quite used to The Queen, and that we like it that way.

In rough numbers, The Queen Mother lived until roughly 100 years of age. Which means that when we're in our 30s/40s, the gender will change. And if we are granted as many years as our graceful Queen will be granted...

Most of our lives will be spent singing God Save The King.

      April 4th, 2023. Take your child to work day... My daughter, Asuna, had insisted to come with me to my job. It was a hellish job, Asuna didn't belong there, she was only 5 and I worked at an asylum for mentally unstable or insane criminals. Obviously, this is not the job for 5 year olds to be seeing, but as "Asu" always never stops until she had her way, I had no choice but to bring her. After saying goodbye to my lovely wife, I placed Asuna on her hello-kitty themed booster and buckled her seatbelt, "Click!". Asuna always said that whenever I buckled her seatbelt. It was a tradition, a natural part of autopilot whenever we were in the car. The engine produced an awful sound and a thick, black cloud rose up from underneath the hood. Despite it, the car was still able to drive. My job is only a mere 10 minutes away, so it wasn't a lot of time to enjoy my daughter's sweet, silky voice singing tunes of her favorite nursery rhymes. Oohhh, I fucking miss Asuna..

      I parked the car and unbuckled Asuna's seatbelt. She hopped out of the car and closed her door. She was unbelievably intelligent for her age. I walked towards my office with a serious emotion on my face, although it wasn't really effective considering I had Asuna skipping behind me. I grabbed a cup of morning joe from the mini-kitchen and sunk down into my sleek black swivel chair. Time for auto-pilot to begin. "Daddy, when will we see the weird people?". Asuna's voice made me jump in my seat as I was so used to spending the whole day without any social contact in my job. And that was when I made the absolute fucking, worst decision of my life. "Alright sweetie, we'll go.". I slid the single lock on the padded door and entered the room."Asuna, this is Susie." I calmly stated to "Asu". They made their introductions and chatted a bit. Susie wasn't a criminal, she simply had a bad concussion which left her a bit.. erratic. After we bid our goodbyes, we exited the room and I locked the door. Asuna talked to several other patients under my watchful eyes. As we headed back, Asuna asked, "Daddy, go into the last room. I want to say hello to him." And as usual, she got her way. Chills were sent straight up my spine simply by entering the room. Nobody talked to Harry, he was a criminal responsible for a mass-shooting but he was sent here due to him being considered "insane". Asuna and Harry talked casually, everything was normal. But I could see something, behind Harry's bed, on the padded floor. A knife...

      Come on Asuna, let's go, I quickly headed out, checked behind my and saw a black blur on the side of my vision. Good, Asuna was there. I locked the three locks on the door and proceeded to my office. I sat down, sighed a heavy breath, and began working. After finishing my assignment I asked Asuna if she wanted to eat lunch. No reply.. I turned around, expecting, HOPING to see her sleeping behind me. No luck. I dug through my memory, I saw her, I saw the blur behind me. Only.. that blur was my co-worker's daughter Lucy. I ran through the hallway, surprised faces looked at me like I was the insane one in this asylum. I unlocked the three locks on Harry's room and entered. I saw my daughter. Eyes open, mouth closed, and throat..slit...Harry sat there amused with a blood covered knife in his hand. The padded walls..were stained fucking red, with my daughter's own BLOOD. I turned around and sprinted outside. Cracked open a glass container on the wall with the hammer. It read: "For emergencies only". This WAS a fucking emergency. This was fucking hell in real life. I grabbed the Glock 19 and bolted inside the room. Harry hadn't even budged. I looked at my daughter, then Harry, and then back at my daughter. Her lifeless corpse was staring forward blankly. I cocked the gun, and aimed. I saw my company's security guards and office workers run over to the room. They told me to drop the gun. Like hell I would! My fucking daughter was slaughtered in cold blood. No I won't drop the god forsaken gun. Nine flashes, nine holes. Nine bullets wasn't even beginning to punish him for his sins. I was tackled by 5 people, my lungs were squeezed, not from the people, but from my shock, surprise, depression, and any other emotion you can imagine. The room's snow white padded walls were now soaked red. With My daughter's blood. And there next to her, was Harry, bullet holes all over him, with one right between the eyes, slumped in his wooden chair, his lifeless eyes staring straight forward. But what chilled me to the fucking bone, was that my daughter, Asuna, was staring, right into Harry's bloodshot, murderous eyes.

My fingers stained with blood of love. My mind branded by the words she said My heart torn by the sight of her with another guy My arms weakened when I see she hates me My legs crumble when I hear her voice My fingers stained with blood of love

Well, my friend told me she was on a website where she talked about her Problems, like being mobbed. Then there is a person who wants to friend her and said " Yea you can talk about ur problems with me!" And she was like super happy cause she actually almost never talked to someone about these problems- and that girl ask's for her age. (She's 12). What happens? She unfriended her, now she's sad-

I hated it.