Ending this, Right here.

How easy it is.

to end it here.

with a note next to me, writing my last will to my dearest parents, to my dearest friends, to him whom took me out of my trance, or so I thought.


How convenient it would be.

to not care about things.

and take a knife, a sharp edge tool, and slit through these vulnerable veins, and slowly, progressingly, watch myself in the mirror, slipping away, away from it all. Away from the pain, the sadness, the hurtful words, the ignorance, the careless moments. Away...

How easy.


To slowly sink into a deep slumber, without pain, without fear, into the unknown, or would I see the bright light they mentioned? Feel is no longer an option, for feeling was the reason to end it all.


I lay a soothing finger across the protruding veins on my wrist, imagining blood oozing out from the cut, wondering if it would hurt, wondering if I'm scared. And look at my image in front of me. An unfamiliar image, yet one that I have been looking at for 24 years. An unknown figure, to the world, to anyone, to no one.


Does it matter who I tell to? Does it matter how anyone feel? How has it not been anyone's concern anyway? An image I am no longer familiar with, for no one would understand anyway, and it didn't matter. Not once I go through with this.


How simple.

the solution has always been in front of me.

why have I not taken it.

why has fear been the reason to it?

why should selfishness be the obstacle to it? for is not everyone selfish in they own way?


"It's ok. I'll be fine." was that not the usual statement i give to anyone and everyone, for isn't that what everyone wants to hear?

Yes I will be fine.

How easy. How simple. Just a while more. And everything will. be. fine.