Contemplating the Selfs End
Now, I've been in a rather interesting state for a while. As anybody who pays attention to my blog may have noticed, I've not posted in a while. This is for a variety of reasons ranging from the simplistic to the down-right bizarre.
This is something I've been struggling to deal with lately, now-so more then ever. As a result of this I've decided to write my next short essay on the subject. Why I contemplate it, how it makes me feel, how it's effecting me.
I've known for a long time, as long as I've been an atheist, that the universe doesn't "give a damn". It's unintelligent and not alive, thus it can't feel. It can't feel, or think, or plan or do much of anything. The universe simply is. A more recent realization I've had also, is the knowledge... the ideology even, that everything (and I mean everything) is meaningless.
The virtue of existing does not grant meaning or purpose in any way, shape or form. My life by virtue of it's existance has no meaning and no purpose. The only meaning and purpose I have is that which I attribute to it, what others attribute it.
This is both comforting to me and highly distressing. An emotional oxy-moron if you will. Also as a warning (Don't know why I'm giving it now), this post may seem manicly constructed and even somewhat insane at times. Bear with me.
I contemplate things like this, like meanings and purposes, like the universe. I contemplate them to often for it potentially to be healthy. I'm no mathematician, philosepher or physicist. I'm a thinker. I spend almost every moment of my waking existance contemplating these things. Day in, day out.
It's tiring, exhausting even to think of things so unimaginably bigger then me so often. I've even recently began drinking/smoking pot simultaniously to "stop" my ability to think, to process information intelligently. It worked fantastically.
But what existance is that? I both hate and love being as smart as I am. The life I lead is a life of extremes in every single sense, there is no middle ground for me. When I want to eat, I eat far too much. When I don't want to, I eat far to little. When I think, I overthink everything and can't stop thinking. When I don't want to think I use alcohol and marijuana to render me into a near drooling mess that can't answer basic mathematical questions.
When I love, I love far too much. There is no middle ground for me, as previously stated. It's what I'd consider a horrific existance. I've lived now for nineteen years. Nineteen years on a planet that even decades before my birth, began a wild spiral to it's end. Nineteen years on a planet where murderers and rapists get away relatively scot-free while people who simply download a song, a film, anything illegally are incarserated for life.
Not only that, but I personally throughout almost my entire life have been bullied and beaten horrifically. Physically, emotionally and mentally I have been tried and tested almost everyday of my life by having to see what I've seen, endure what I've endured, heard what I've endured.
Hell, when I was just a little kid in primary school my bullies used to physically torture me. That's why I have so much of a problem with people, because most people are out to get me, hurt me or use me. Those that choose to come in most often do those things anyway and/or leave... and those that stay are far to few to really count as worthwhile (harsh as it may sound).
My prospects for the future are grim. I have a medium-high level education and yet in todays world that counts for close to nothing. I have no money, no job, a family that despise me and abuse me. Who have always despised me and abused me.
I've recently lost the ability to understand or feel love and attraction. I started dating a girl recently for a short period of time and I broke up with her because It hit me (Again) that I just don't understand how to be attracted to somebody. People would look at me like I'm insane (maybe I am) for not understanding what to many others would seem so simple, even arbitrary. But to me, I'm an extremist as I said.Â
If it's illogical, I shouldn't feel it. Then on top of that my most recent apiphany on the subject is that I don't actually know how to "feel" it. Do we feel love akin to the way we feel pain? Based in  the brain but expressed through an actual almost physical feeling... or is love all in the mind? It's a thought, a process of the mind.
Both have their downfalls which render them illogical to me, and thus I'm unable to understand it. But what I understand is that this knowledge is agony. It hurts so much to be so afraid to try and get attached to people because I care too much to want to hurt others and I know I most likely will.
Jealousy still abounds, jealousy and regret and sadness though. Like with my ex Yasmin. I'm over her entirely, my emotional attachment to her died along with my ability to be emotionally attached. But when I see pictures of her and her boyfriend together, or I consider the viable futures we could of had... it makes me regret that things turned out that way. Back then, I somewhat had stability. I had security. I had "love". I had somebody I could depend on.
Then human nature intervened. It changed what she wanted and simply through probability she recieved an alternative before I could save it. I lost the stability, I lost the security, I lost the "love" and the ability to feel it.
I live every day of my life in the past, wishing I could shape the future. I can't do either. I live every day of my life contemplating killing myself. Contemplating ending it all. It would be almost beneficial to me. An end to all the suffering I feel. An end to all the potential hurt I could inflict on the world.
This is where I begin to get into the main point of this "essay". I want to die. I think I'm to afraid to die by "pulling the trigger" myself, if you (Whoever you are) understand my meaning. This may sound lame (bare with me), but I have an abcess. A quite bad one, one that I've felt (the pain was almost unbearable) eat away at the nerves in my mouth and begin eating away at my jaw. I've read that abcesses when left untreated for prolonged periods of time can (and a lot of times usually do) end up fatal.
Afterall it's an infection that at some point will eat through the tissue and bone into your blood stream and poison you.
I've had this abcess for a long time. Everytime I've considered going to get it fixed... I stop and think "if I don't, this might kill me". People tell me all the time that I just have to get through the bad times and hope for the good. Hell this is the kind of optimistic ideological bullshit I feed to others to make them feel better (and it works, trust me).
But I can't just bare with it. Realistically speaking things are NEVER good. You may think your life is all that matters, but I understand implicitly that my life isn't all that matters. The world matters, my peers matter, my government matters... and I can't change any of those things. No man can take power from the powerful. You can't steal fire from the God's... if you'll pardon the expression.
So what's the point in continued existance? I'm just useing up resources. Through my friends assistance I a while ago experienced "Ego-Death". It was liberating. Why? Because I legitimately stopped feeling. I couldn't feel because feel's ceased to exist. Existing ceased to be. Everything ceased.
When I come out of it I actually cried. I cried in a mixture of fear and joy. Fear because I had just "gazed into the abyss", joy because... that utter blankness is what I've been wanting for so long.
I think I'm going to end these utter and insane rambling... I guess it's just food for  thought really right? The fact that nothing, really, means anything.
If I know anything for certain though, it's that I will ALWAYS be getting closer and closer to my demise. Whether I choose to end it myself, another end's it for me or it is ended naturally.
