I Am At the End of My Rope
I Feel Ready To Give Up...
-That's it. I got nothing left to fight for, and nobody to turn to. For the little I have achieved in my life... it's not enough. It was never enough. I have distanced myself from everyone out of fear that they could hurt me That I would hurt them. For all my hopes and dreams, for my ambitions... what have I to show? For every tear, every drop of sweat, of blood that shed to pave my way to this one moment, what have I to show?
I have nothing. They were wasted, scattered to the meaningless wind that howls in the echoes of my life.
For all my failings, neither God nor the Devil are to blame, that is my burden, and mine alone. And now, even my greatest passion, my desire to write, has faded away. The ideas still come to me. In this empty shell I have become, those ideas are the sole remaining sparks of light. But, I am no longer able to commit myself to write them down. So they die, just as the days that pass die with them.
I have nothing left to fight for, nothing to life for.
And no roads left to run.
For any that would care to read this, I find important to say this last thing, in the end. Fear not, this is no suicide note. I have no desire to end my life. I have not even considered the consideration of considering such an act. I felt it was necessary to say that.
Thank you for your time.
-That's it. I got nothing left to fight for, and nobody to turn to. For the little I have achieved in my life... it's not enough. It was never enough. I have distanced myself from everyone out of fear that they could hurt me That I would hurt them. For all my hopes and dreams, for my ambitions... what have I to show? For every tear, every drop of sweat, of blood that shed to pave my way to this one moment, what have I to show?
I have nothing. They were wasted, scattered to the meaningless wind that howls in the echoes of my life.
For all my failings, neither God nor the Devil are to blame, that is my burden, and mine alone. And now, even my greatest passion, my desire to write, has faded away. The ideas still come to me. In this empty shell I have become, those ideas are the sole remaining sparks of light. But, I am no longer able to commit myself to write them down. So they die, just as the days that pass die with them.
I have nothing left to fight for, nothing to life for.
And no roads left to run.
For any that would care to read this, I find important to say this last thing, in the end. Fear not, this is no suicide note. I have no desire to end my life. I have not even considered the consideration of considering such an act. I felt it was necessary to say that.
Thank you for your time.
36-40, M
