Why do so many people want to end their lives? Is it because they are unhappy? But why are they unhappy? Because they can't get what they want? But what if they do end up getting what they want? Then what? Will they really become satisfied? Will the pain end then? There were a lot of things I wanted to do before. I have done a few of those things, but the joy that accompanied doing those things is not alive with me today. In other words, I can't feel that joy today. The satisfaction was only ephemeral. It didn't last long. It faded rather pretty quickly. There are things I honestly would like to do in the future, like being with someone I have feelings for. But I am not sure if this is going to be any different than the rest of the things. I mean I am doubtful that the joyful effects of being with this person will have a long lasting impact on my life. I feel as though the emptiness will eventually set in and I will be looking for something else to, once again, fill the ever recurring void. It's a pointless cycle! I look around and I can see pretty clearly living examples of what I'm talking about. I see those people who once begged to be with someone and today they have cheated on that very same person. I see these people who once used to dream about becoming a pilot, a doctor, a lawyer. Today they have become that, but it's nothing more than a perfunctory task for them. I can resemble life to a magic trick that is only meant to be seen once in order to bring amazement upon its watchers but if it is seen repetitively, it will no longer have the same effect on the same watchers. If one is always in a constant battle to try achieving real, permanent satisfaction without ever catching it, why continue living? Apparently, satisfaction cannot be the reason. And if there is no other reason, life is futile and absurd. I have heard some stories about people who lived happily and satisfactorily, people who can put their heads on the pillow at night and sleep just fine without ruminating upon anything. Yet, these people didn't necessarily have a better reason just because they were able to live that way. Take, for example, an average person who supposedly spent pretty much all of his life satisfied. But when that person dies, he only leaves memories in the minds of his acquaintances, and when those acquaintances of his eventually die, even his memories are now gone. It's like he never existed. What is not futile about that? I do not condone this way of thinking and I am aware that I am not supposed to encourage people here to take their own lives or at least argue for that. In fact, no one wishes I'm wrong about all of what I said more than I do, but I'm only writing this here because it constitutes a major part of why I would really like to stop being alive. Living this way is like being in a maze in the dark. Thank you for stopping by.