The prophecy

This man I love... he's so perfect. As perfect as a human being can be. And I realise that is why I don't stand a chance. (Among other things...) But what am I supposed to do about it? Get over it? To what?! Another two years in solitude, but just that I don't have anyone to fantasise about. Yeah, sounds peachy. This sucks. I don't want to meet new people, and I don't want to be alone either. I wanna stick to what I know, to those I know. Aw, fuck it. What am I weeping over, my tragic life? I haven't done anything else than to whine about my stupid life, and it obviously isn't gonna help! What will then? What will help... Just suck it up and stay here until it's over. I have no idea for how long this is gonna go on, how long my life will be. I don't know why, when or where. I just know how. What is it with prophecies being so damn unclear? If they're gonna tell me how I will die, why not at least also tell me when?! Is it too much to ask of? No... let the stupid humanized demon walk around and wonder if he's gonna live to 16 or 99 before he off's himself!? Goddamnit!

It's raining outside. Didn't notice. Maybe I'm not supposed to know what there will be of me. Cause if I did know, I wouldn't be living, I wouldn't have those days when I try to live, follow my dreams and do something of my life. I would just sit there, waiting for my doom. Counting the days. I know that's the way it would be, cause I'm already there. Just that the uncertainty of not knowing when, only how, sometimes makes me want to believe that I could have a good life, until whenever that's gonna happen. I can't actually count the days, cause I don't know when to count down to. It drives me crazy sometimes, like now, when I just think it's cruel that I was given that information at the age of 15 and then expected to live with that.

There's so many things it feels I'm just expected to live with. I've lost count on how many such things there are. You know the saying that you're only put through as much as you can take in life? It's so wrong on so many levels. Take? What do they mean by that, survive life? And since I will die from suicide, isn't that exactly it: that I will get more than I can take? Life will just keep pushing and shoving me until I will kill myself, and that's the goddamn point. If I could change life with anyone, I would. Anyone.

I envy the normal people. Who don't remember past lives or get visions on how they are gonna die. I remember watching the movie "Big Fish" and the local wich let some kids look into her eye and see how they were gonna die, and I wished I could look into her eye and see my death. But I already knew the answer, I just wanted a different one.

No. I don't want to live here, I'm just doing it because I have to, because there really is no other choice. What would that be, trying to commit suicide for the 16th time? No, I don't even have the strenght to do that. Everyone telling me suicide is the easy way out should have a bullet right between their eyes. Living life in misery is easier than that. Or should I say, surviving misery. It's so much easier to just sit here, doing nothing, than to stop the suffering by killing myself. My heart's racing just by thinking about it. It's one hell of a road to walk down. No, just no. Gonna have to get a little worse before I try again.

Did I actually...? Yeah, I think I just asked for life to get worse. How pathetic isn't that. It's just a little too much today, this prophecy... it keeps messing with my mind. I just don't know how to handle it. Now I get it! Why I've failed 15 times, I didn't do it right. There's only one way it will work, and that's by jumping. Yeez... now that makes me dizzy. I'm so terribly scared of heights. I mean, really scared of heights. This is all but comforting. Though I suppose it's very symbolic and everything, but please? Why heights? I really have been trying to take the easy way out! With overdoses, razors and nooses. If I really, really wanted to die, I've always known that I have to jump.

So what's up with me really? One doesn't just try to kill themselves 15 times without really wanting to die. Or am I trying to break a world record? I don't know, but something's definately wrong. I just can't seem to ever get my thoughts off of suicide. They're always there, gnawing at my conscience. One way or the other. Ranting past failed attempts, googling statistics, searching for suicide in history, planning my own, being disgusted by my latest attempt, reading about other peoples failed attempts, discussing it on online forums, and so on. Even when I'm not suicidal these thoughts are always on my mind, one way or another. And now? Future suicide, the one that is bound to happen, at some point. Can be in two weeks (though that's highly unlikely) or in twenty years. That's what's bugging me. What am I gonna do about it, is there anything I can do about it?

So that's it then. I'm just gonna sit here and wait. Watch the rain, feel the cold wind on my face, listening to my neighbour whipping cream, smelling cigarette smoke, tasting bitter coffee that makes my stomache rumble. And life just goes on, withering away with every taken breath.

Four things to bring up with my unavailable psychologist. Just get available before I do something stupid! God, I hate the Swedish mental health care system...