suicide

He killed himself for wanting to live, for wanting to find someone that would love him, someone that would actually love him enough to want to be with him in his life, he did found rare people like that in his lonely search but they were already with another someone, no need for him to interfere, he killed himself because all his dreams were never nothing more than dreams, he killed himself because he was a failure, he killed himself because that someone never showed up to him.

For as long as I could remember, a part of me had been waiting for the day it would happen; with the cunning that comes to people whose minds have been stripped to one desire, she picked the only day we weren't waiting for.

It__ about how some people carelessly squander what others would sell their souls to have: a healthy, pain-free body. And why? Because they__e too blind, too emotionally scarred, or too self-involved to see past the earth__ dark curve to the next sunrise. Which always comes, if one continues to draw breath.

A neon-pink 3 flickered and instantly disappeared again into the dark. The sight of it on my own device now made me sick. I held my finger down on the menu screen; each little app logo began to vibrate. I deleted the 3. I contemplated deleting everything. Cleaning it all away. The idea had a charm, a self-cancellation, many little suicides, a way to dispatch myself without actually going anywhere.

THE DAY I ALMOST KILLED MYSELFIt was afternoon and the razorreflected the sky like like a mirror. The bath towelswere white like the bathtub and my wristswere white like the towels.The bathwater got lukewarm.The afternoon turned into lateafternoon and I was still pulling ropes of airinto my lungs like a sailor. The razor reflectedthe sunset. The bathwater got cold.The bath towels were white like the bathtub and my wrists were white like the towels.

All suicides have the responsibility of fighting against the temptation of suicide. Every one of them knows very well in some corner of his soul that suicide, though a way out, is rather a mean and shabby one, and that it is nobler and finer to be conquered by life than to fall by one's own hand.

How could I feel something when... I always get screw up... good people get killed and bad people just make suicides.

Seriously... a sermon is not going to achieve anything. We all know perfectly well that one must not commit suicide. And yet there are times when the world we live in becomes so tough on us that we play with the thought. Therefore, it's useless to appeal to ethics; he ought to go with a more practical and concrete approach. If I were to stop suicide, I would do it like this: "Dying means falling into an eternal state of nothingness, a perfect void that can't be conceived by anything that is alive. Just think about it: your brain goes away. You do not have any thought anymore. Surely, you've heard of the phrase 'I think, thus I am,' no? Give it some careful thought. Nothing exists. Do you get this? Nothing exists. How many seconds could you endure being in a world without sound, without light, and without any kind of sensation? A world where you don't even get hungry. Where you have no desires at all. Can you follow me? But death is a perfect void, so it exceeds even such a sensation-less world. There is no future. Heaven is just a construct people who fear death made up. You should know why there will always be people who believe in a world after death despite the advent of science; it's because they are scared. Scared of what waits beyond death. So, don't think ending your own life will save you! It simply ends. It E-N-D-S. Suicide is the act of killing yourself, and dying without comprehending the meaning of death is but escaping from reality. Although the result is the same in both cases. All right, come on. Try to kill yourself if you can; try to kill yourself now that you've learned the truth."At the very least, I couldn't kill myself. After all, the only reason why I'm here now is because I'm more afraid of death than most.

The terrifying experience and obsession of death, when preserved in consciousness, becomes ruinous. If you talk about death, you save part of yourself. But at the same time, something of your real self dies, because objectified meanings lose the actuality they have in consciousness.

I have experienced deep despair, mental-ill health and attempt of suicide.

In some ways, com­ing to terms with my­self and work­ing to­ward re­cov­ery has been like say­ing __ love you_ to some­one but keep­ing a loaded gun hid­den in your back pocket, just in case that per­son pisses you off enough.

Suicide is the selfishness at its maxima expression

I often wondered how it would be to tramp off into the mountains and keep going until I was exhausted, then simply sink into the snow and fall asleep. Then the wolves could have me.To want to die in the forest and be eaten by wolves: another marker of incipient madness.

They say that God doesn't give you more than you can handle.Tell that to her.

Here__ a fact: Some people want to live moreThan others do.

Nothing in my life has ever made me want to commit suicide more than people's reaction to my trying to commit suicide.

To be or not to be. That's not really a question.

It would have been so pointless to kill himself that, even if he had wanted to, the pointlessness would have made him unable.