I've heard that almost everyone has this kind of thought at least once in their lifetime...maybe I'm just another guy confronted by the very same phase, and perhaps it's not at all serious as it sounds. I rarely talk about my past, so you won't get a sob story from me here. Sure, it's somewhat affected me in becoming the person I am today, and I do regret my missing childhood; like not having a mother to cook good food for me, or a dad to play catch with, not fighting back against those who did me wrong, not being able to make friends without having the latest and greatest toys/games because the household I was under was too destitute to feed me more than the slices of bread, cans of beans, and sacks of potatoes I was given to live on. Sure, I want a time machine to go back and be born into a different world, or win the lottery to buy a family and friends, and all the video games, G.I. Joe action figures, Pokemon cards, and chocolate in the world to make up for the years I missed out without it because I'm too dumb to get a job or come up with ways to make a lot of money. But the fact of the matter is, I'm feeling the way I feel now not because of the life I've never lived, but what I predict in the future of what my life will become. In my 25+ years of being homeless on and off, I've travelled much so I've also encountered/witnessed thousands upon thousands of people, none of whom were trustworthy. Nobody gives you a dollar, whether you beg on the street or in a church. With this said, what's the point of living? 34 years I have passed my life, and I've always asked myself, "what kind of life is this to live?" Standing on line for an hour to eat a meal, otherwise stealing from a church kitchen, being put on a 2-week waitlist after applying at homeless shelters because there are so many others like me...people who are just too stupid to be qualified for a job that pays a quarter over minimum wage because we can't hold a simple spot at McDonald's due to our uselessness. I failed out of community college twice (not consecutively; my first semester post-high school, and after that I took a break for a couple years before I decided to give it a shot again for my second failure). All these years up to now I have studied books, texts, and manuals and I have learned absolutely nothing. Case in point: e.g. learning another language such as Russian, studying it for 3 years straight and still not being able to recite the alphabet. Including, but not limited to various subjects I've wanted to make a career out of, but all ultimately leading to no success. Heck, I've repeated basic mathematics throughout middle school and high school, yet I can't solve an basic algebraic equation like 10x + 5 = 2 or something similar along those lines even though I studied hours every day. Basically, I haven't found anything I'm good at yet. Sometimes hard work and persistence don't mean anything over time, especially when you don't possess the necessary brainpower capable of putting a particular field into practice. Sometimes you throwing in the towel isn't so bad, I guess. Because even if you have a hobby you love doing, I've learned that you can't necessary make a profession out of it if your performance is horrible enough to repulse customers. I'm thoroughly jealous of people with natural talent and also those who improve with time whereas someone such as myself is caught at a plateau at the starting line. I ask myself again, "what kind of life is this to live?" In such a world...I'm not sure I can take 20, 30 more years of this, after already having wasted 34 years of life. I have no family or friends, so if I offed myself nobody would be too affected by my demise unless of course I use some sort of method that involves another people...which brings me to another incentive: On top of hearing about the statistic about most people contemplating suicide, I've also heard that many people fantasize about some sick stuff, which apparently is mentally healthy. Well, I do too because I need to read news articles about torture, rape, and murder in order to attain sexual release. I tell myself that I'd never do that stuff in real life, but then again I've also told myself that I'd never consider suicide, but look at where I am now. I'd hate to go to prison. Or a mental facility or military, for that matter. I am absolutely terrified of physical pain because of my childhood experiences and I never want to feel anything like that again, which is why if I ever decided to off myself I'd try my best to execute a painless technique. If I continued to live, however, if I did something stupid and ended up in prison...well, we probably know what would happen to me in there. In a psychiatric institution, well, I've also heard terrible stories about electroshock treatment "therapy" given to patients who didn't even deserve it, and also about abusive guards who also beat the patients. I wouldn't even be able to run away! At least being homeless one has the freedom and option to escape to the far corners of the planet if they so chose. As for being matriculated into the military...that just sounds like repeating my three decades of life over while being shipped off to jaywalk amongst flying bullets and dying anyway, which I could have done by myself without the searing pain of being ripped apart by explosives. But just to be clear, I haven't quite arrived to a conclusive resolution yet because the idea sounds frightening. I'll admit that my mindset of fear hasn't changed since I was a young boy, but I can't be sure if the same application has spread to my other neuro-components.