im paranoid, and i cant get no rest

But what 

I win

I feel so satisfied i want to scream. Everything feels great. I feel like the happiest person on the whole world. even though my life is falling apart right before my eyes.  

I wasn’t depressed. I wasn’t suicidal. It’s not that I wanted to die, its just that life in itself didn’t bear any value in my mind. I didn’t exactly want to live either. Honestly, I just didn’t care in the slightest. I didn’t need it. I didn’t need more time. I wasn’t afraid of losing it, Life. I didn’t know what it meant anymore. 

I was caught in between two worlds. The past and the present. I felt much happier now, but I was missing the sadness. I wasn’t quite sure if I had nothing to be hurt over, or if I was so hurt, that I had finally become numb to pain. Funny right? I used to beg god to stop the pain, but the moment it was gone I wanted it back. Maybe I just didn’t know how to live without it. Maybe I was only interested in what I didn’t have. By now I’ve tried pretty much every drug you could think of. I sometimes thought I had the answer, until I realised I haven’t slept or eaten in 3 days, just to forget it again. I hadn’t been sane in a while, but now I wasn’t even ever sober. I don’t think I know how to do that anymore. I don’t think I want to. I love the freedom. I love the wind in my hair driving somewhere in the middle of the nights. I love being fucked up on drugs. I love forgetting the world outside this appartement exists. I love forgetting all about jobs, and responsibilities. I love not having to do anything. Not having to rush anywhere. I could die this way.I’ve been thinking about taking a huge loan, going on an adventure and dying before I ever have to pay it back. I’ve been thinking about walking trough europe with no money. Just depending on someones kindness. Perhaps thats the way I wanted to die. I knew I would die because of the way I live. I always wanted my life to be like a movie, I knew it would kill me someday - but thats exactly what i wanted. To die. I didn’t quite understand how people were frightened of death. To me it was peaceful. I was losing the fight, so death just seemed right. Found out my mum is big on hand reading. She just never told me, because my life line is short. She recently found out I had been using drugs since I moved out, and she asked to read my hand. She said she knew it since I was a baby. She just hoped it would change as I grew older. Time by time she would ask to see my hand, and I never knew why. It didn’t really scare me. It just confirmed what I knew was right. I had always known too. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t scared of it. 

Somewhere between losing my mind and finding a purpose I met someone that knew someone who had IT too. ‘’All he ever did was suffer’’, he said. Thats when I knew IT was the same one. ‘’I never believed it was real before I met you. I didn’t believe it, but now I’m left with no choice. The way you describe it is exactly like he did’’. I was hysterically laughing in my head, as he said these words out loud, because I didn’t even believe it myself. IT had been in me for such a long time, I had grown to believe it was ME.