i almost drank a bottle of glass cleaner last night. through my haze of suicidal idealology, i vaguely wonder what is keeping me from simply getting it over with.

i am aware that if i commit suicide there will be reprecussions on the lives of my family. i admit that. but part of me really wants to have them suffer for everything they've ever done to me. all my mother can do is yell at me and criticize me for being so selfish to consider death. life is endless nothingness. there is no God. there are no happy endings. no righteous guardian angels. the single calming thought i hold on to is, "i might not be here in the morning."