Post #2

Day in, day out. Nothing changes. It's the same people, the same issues, and the same cycle, a continuous rinse and repeat of monotonous chaos. Sometimes I think we cherish life as much as we do simply because of how afraid we are of death. If someone is truly miserable, and if an infinite nothingness tempts them more than their own life, then is it just us being selfish that we request them to remain? Why do we look at discontinuation as such a bad thing? For some people, life is a blessing, and things come naturally for them; for others, it is a constant, repetitive *** that has no inherent value other than being trapped within it. I just don't relate anymore to anyone, no matter how much I try. This is not me saying I have some bloviated opinion of myself or saying I'm better, it's just that there's a certain look someone gets in their eyes, certain mannerisms and a noticeable change in their tone when they are truly entertaining dark thoughts. I have seen it infrequently in person, even from people that claim that they feel this way, but many times through media with some of the people no longer being with us. And when people don't have that demeanor about them, it's really hard to believe it when these people say, "It's going to be alright," even if they do not mean it from a bad place and are only trying to help. And the funny thing is that you feel guilty about that -- guilty that you do not want to be here. 

Life is nothing but random, capricious chaos, and were anybody to tell me that it has genuine structure and/or purpose, I would not believe them.