I hate myself...

I hate myself...-. I hate that the only way I can utterly express my sadness is through this diary which was supposed to have ended.

I hate that I have no one to share my thoughts and wishes, I’m tired of being alone... so alone...

I know I need my own apartment, I know I do, I know I need to get a job, I know I do, I know I have to stop sheltering in my room from the world

(62 days late)

Writing a suicide letter is much more difficult than it sounds ...

 "Writing a suicide letter is much more difficult than it sounds ... I know this because I have written many."

FINAL from José Luis Montesinos. Director on Vimeo.

Christmas is a stupid holiday

Christmas is a stupid holiday, not as stupid as New Year’s but stupid enough.

First we must admit it’s all about the money and the presents, like one broke girl said.

“The holidays are totally about money! It’s about spending money to buy things to stuff into the giant black sucking hole in the center of each of us that reminds us life is hard and then we die.” 

It’s not about love, joy to the world, or the celebration of the birth of Christ... It’s a huge commercial complot to exploit us and taker our money.

But who am I kidding… this is not why I hate Christmas...

I hate Christmas, because it’s supposed to be perfect and never is. This time of year comes, and it’s in our subconscious that this should be a time for happiness and sharing with our families. But it’s never like that…

I personally don’t love my extended family, with whom I have been forced to share this dreadful holiday. Why you wonder? It’s a nice family… a good looking, a wealthy family, a kind family… I don’t fit. I just don’t. 

The people closer to me is the people I’m more distant emotionally, no one in my family knows me, and the only person I depended in making Christmas better is across the ocean having the time of her life. 

As I sat alone in the middle of the crowd drinking Colombiana I realized how alone and pathetic I was:

First the only person I was expecting to hear a merry Christmas from was a 60 year old in England.

Second, that the only person I could ask in a date was not very good looking 15 year old ameinian boy I met online… and knowing that if I ever meet him, he’ll be so disappointed; I’m much uglier than what you see on webcam.

Everyone else is gone… just gone… And to think this promised to be such a great Christmas season. 

(29 days late)

Smoke Cathedral

The tragedy is not that life has no meaning but that there is no meaning that is worth a life. 

-  La catedral de humo. 

Why do I have to put my life aside all the time?

Why do I have to put my life aside all the time?

I haven’t written recently because of one simple thing… collage work, it just never ends, and the truth is… I don’t even think I’m learning that much.

I don’t understand why I have to put my life aside to do what is supposed my choice of life.

I did choose to go to college… didn’t I?

I’m no longer sure; I can’t remember the moment I chose a major… I just remember one day my mom driving me to the campus and I signed some paper…. And voila! I’m studying a career I hate!

Everyone I meet and I show my work to says “WTF are you doing here?” actually today Ana Maria (A girl I’m really into) said that I was wasting myself studying this :P I’m not sure if it’s a complement or if it’s an insult, but it’s surely says what I feel right now.

(1 day late)

Liar

Liar

You are a liar, a fake phony false human being... if you can call yourself human. Deception disappointment, in everything you do and say, nothing is real, nothing is true, nothing is authentic.

Liar. Masks all over yourself, makeup... actor, pretender, wannabe...

The truth is I can’t do it, the truth is, and I’m incapable. The truth is I sabotage myself constantly, which part of me is real?

(14 days late)

God?

 Yeah?

 I have problem

No! Really?! 

No need to be sarcastic.

... The girl I like talks to you…

 But I think you tell her something different than you tell me so... l, are you lying?

 Of course not.

Lying would imply saying something that is not true, and everything is true.

 She thinks I am a sinner 

You are sinner

You told her you spoke to god.

She asked me what you answered me back when I spoke to you... I lied 

What did you say? 

I said you always replied the same thing: yes.

 Well, you certainly omitted my neat sense of humor and sarcasm. 

I know... I don’t know why id did it.

 You don’t believe it’s me anymore

I do.... I do believe this is you

 Then why didn’t you tell her. 

I don’t know... 

I guess I was afraid I would come out as a raving lunatic, I told her... I was god. 

Which is true? 

Yeah, for you and me who understand it? 

But for her... must have sounded insane... 

Can you talk to her? 

I will 

Thanks she is bit stubborn

 I know

\(4 days late)

I’m so going to hell

I’m so going to hell. Because this boy… . There   one I have lied about everything… sometimes I feel like I should rescue him, like if I should make him my prince… sometimes I hate him with all my being.

He brought up in the conversation his parents will be off next weekend, but never actually made the invitation. This left me a bit disappointed. I can’t believe I’m saying this… it feels wrong, because he is way younger then me…

God, it kills me that I can’t afford anything right now. Stupid college student budget.

I get about 8 dollars a week, for lunch, books, and transport. So I get to save about a dollar a week… form unused change.

(6 days late)

To my mother

To my mother

I have life, I have gaps, I have what I want,

I have scars, deep wounds, immense pain,

I have my nostalgia, my questions, my affections.

You left to punish us all,

to mark your territory with the weight of your final absence,

to kill us too.

I died in you

you killed me

you evicted my life with your death,

imposed, impossible, final.

Every day every night,

every day every night,

your memory is never alone

there is always you and your death,

your hand stretched out in the empty space

so purple, so cold,

your mouth ajar,

the sound of your dead chest.

You didn't leave me alone

you just left me without you and with your death,

violent, simple, provoked.

"Only optimists commit suicide," they say.

I believe

What did you think was going to happen?

What were you going to find?

Didn't mother tell you that there is no beyond?

You condemned yourself too,

you took off,

You killed me, you evicted him, you killed them, we got lost,

You turned off your light very early.

With your last act,

sublime act of selfishness,

you gave me full hands.

Who would believe it mother?

Who would believe that you could give birth to me twice?

I hold on to the facts

your body, dead and decomposed is in a grave,

your soul does not exist.

Who do I talk to when I talk to you?

You are memory.

I have my affections, my questions, my nostalgia,

immense pains, deep wounds,

scars,

what I wish,

empty,

life.

I have life.

Maria G

My love, Today I woke up and there it was again…

My love,

Today I woke up and there it was again... that sick, ugly and talentless being... the monster on the mirror.

I wait for you to come, like spring after a deadly cold winter even though I know it doesn’t snow here in hell...

I’m in hell my dear. I’m in hell, and I can’t escape because everyone says I am the one that condemned me here... I don’t understand that.

I’m empty my dear... I’m empty of you, I can’t see you, I can’t feel you... I can’t even dream of you. Where did you go?

I don’t know how else I can say I rather die than wake up tomorrow...

I don’t know how can I express anymore the feeling of absolute emptiness my life is.

I don’t know how I am strong enough to breathe right now…

(18 days late)

Today I’ve realized the word "friend" turns me.

Today I’ve realized the word "friend" turns me.

I’m tired of talking about me, I’m tired of writing, I’m tired of reflecting, of contemplating, of analyzing, of pondering, of distinguishing, and most of all, I’m tired of explaining; I don’t want to explain anything to anyone anymore. I can’t stand one more justification on any subject. It seems like my whole existence is focused on justifying myself in every single aspect. Every meaningless conversation becomes an act of validation of why I do or not do something, why I am or I am not something, why I like or don’t like something. But if I take those actions away then there is just nothing left to talk about… we are all just doing monologues about us and our lives.

I have a really long homework for Tuesday…. Really long tedious work to do… and yet I went out shopping and to watch a movie 

Sighs*

I have no doubt I failed, I failed at everything you can fail at life. God… I think I’ve failed in death too, or otherwise I would be dead already.

Finally I got someone to help me out with a vid…

Finally I got someone to help me out with a vid… in the rain! Got thoroughly soaked. It was silly and fun, I really enjoyed it.

(7 days late)

Can't do it anymore; we have no strength, no health, no money

"We can't do it anymore; we have no strength, no health, no money. There was no other way out. Forgive us."

Igor & Lucile Bouryanime. Married couple that committed suicide via hanging in Paris on June 22 of 1970.  

via Les dossiers noirs du suicide by Denis Langlois