I just can't seem to get these thoughts out of my head. No matter how shitty my life is, I can't help but embrace my existence. The pain is too exciting, the depression and insomnia so intense, the social anxiety too crippling, it's unreal. The adventure of survival in a hostile modern environment makes my heart race. How can I possibly survive against all these odds? I'm defective. Surely the reaper is one step behind me at all times. Yet here I am, every day that I continue to breathe is a rebellion against reality. I cherish every minute of it. But I've forgotten how to truly feel. I want nothing more than to feel the deep emotions of sadness and despair again, to be overwhelmed, to be suicidal. But pain is like a drug, I've had so much that I've built an incredible tolerance to it, and now I have neither sadness nor happiness - just emptiness. If no one can convince me to kill myself, I'm going to continue breathing. I'll do it tonite. Tomorrow night too. I'll probably cough a few times too, because this room is a bit dusty to be honest.