Not physically, not even mentally, it goes deeper than that. I'm fundementally tired of living. Everything's a chore...even things as small as getting dressed and picking my keys up feel like monumentally horrific undertakings, tortures as sure as anything involving boiling oil or steel wool and urethras. I have to work my ass off just to keep amused and on something approaching an even keel. It's ludicrous to the extreme. I haven't done any work and I'm not even really thinking about doing any.
I can't keep doing this. I know how cliche and crass it is to talk about suicide on Livejournal. If you're going to kill yourself you should just go the fuck ahead and do it, right? Not sit around whining about it. So I won't bother following the example of countless airheaded teenaged girls...but I won't pretend that the thought doesn't cross my mind on a regular basis. It has for as long as I can remember. I'm not going to lie in order to avoid looking foolish. It's pointless.
The truth of the matter is that there's not much keeping me here. I get no satisfaction from life, and there's nobody who cares about me except my absolutely insane mother who I don't even like that much. I've been told that I have a bright future so many times I'm starting to think it's the light at the end of the tunnel, but I don't think I even believe in the future anymore.
I've lost my faith at a fundemental level. I just don't believe anymore...not in any way shape or form. I've never believed in god (Not entirely true, I just think that if there IS a god he's a hideous fucking asshole who revels in the pain and agony of human beings, or a detached egomaniac who should be strung up and tortured for all eternity.) but I've stopped believing in man and now I'm left with nothing.
The fact of the matter is that I've been doing it on pure inner strength for far too long. I need something to anchor my life to. Something real that I can latch on to and build on to. A person, a dream, a plan. Something.
It won't come. That's not the way the world works for me. Life is just something to be gotten through, only difference is that you CAN'T come out alive.
I just don't know anymore. If I had a gun I would've blown my brains out long ago. I don't want to feel the pain of a knife, hurting yourself to escape a painful life is foolishness in the extreme. I live on the eigth floor but I always thought that leaping out a window would be scary as all hell. Maybe there's nothing to it but to do it.
This is not a cry for help. I don't want sympathy or encouragement. Frankly I think everyone would be better off if nobody read this, but I'm not going to make it private becuase I'm not interested in hiding who I really am or what I really feel. Hiding in privacy is ultimatly a cowardly act. You take your licks and you see if you can stand up when it's all over.
I'm tired now though...and I'm no longer seeing any good reasons not to lay down and just...let go.
It isn't this way for most people. They have passion or love or hope or dreams or ambition. All I have is some intelligence, some money, and some talent for certain things. It's ironic...means without ends is one of the great ironies of the world. Almost mocking. My life has been a mockery of a real life for a very long time.
I've run out of so much...including things to say.