I have suicidal thoughts. Maybe not the ability to act on them, but they're there. Inside, festering in my brain. They are always there to remind me of the futility of life and its hopelessness.
For what is the point? If I die tomorrow, how long would I be remembered? A day? Surely so. A week? Month? Year? Decade? How long will it take until all memories of me have been eradicated from the minds of those who care about me? How long would it be until the grief of my passing numbed until I was nothing more than a fond memory of days passed? And then how long after that for those to even disappear?
The thoughts terrify me. That I can be so quickly forgotten. That my actions might in the end be meaningless. It brings me to this edge of darkness and despair. But it's not an empty void for there is a light. Faced with this seemingly endless void, this abyss, there is a pinprick of light. This darkness is the darkness that shall free me and let me fall into the light.
Now that I have seen that darkness inside, I find reason to be free, reason to be. Fear is a certainty, but that is nothing more than my body and brain reactung. I can push past this now.
Why be afraid? Why not live? Why be reserved when I know that the bad, terrible decisions will be just as pointless as the good? So long as I move forward with good intentions, even the unwise decisions might not be so bad. Even if I don't matter to the universe, I matter to me.
With this, I am free.
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