is there such thing as a shotgun funeral?

why do i have to think of these things?
death, suicide, pain, horror, falling, cutting, stabbing, are just a few.
i know you dont like me talking about hurting myself, and i dont want to tell you this so i stop talking, but when you come with me and i have no idea what to say... i just fall more.

my great aunt bertha died, went to her funeral yesterday, then went to andreas house later in the day, her dad got mad at us, then after that i accidently spilled gatorade on my brother's laptop, so now im never allowed on it again.

today i got up at 6 am and went rock climbing, it was fun, all the way up until the very end when we were leaving, my belayer was complimenting me and my dad walks up and asks him to stop because my dad didnt want me to feel good about myself, well dad, you did your job quite well.

i feel like shit, like i usually do atleast once a week. I was thinking about if i ever was in the news, what they'd say and how it would be curved, heres a few snipets of what i could think of:
"Self mutilated..."
"reportidly hated both parents..."
"was seeking mental help..."
"was in sports and accelerated classes..."
etc.


now my lower arms are sore.

and i want to die, or cut, or get wasted, i want something to happen where i dont have to feel this way anymore


but that will never happen, thanks to chronic depression.


i tried to sleep last night, without sleeping pills, i didnt fall asleep until 2 am




so everything in my life is deteriorating pretty much, and those of you who actually know me know that my life wasnt worth shit before, now its even less, and its not gonna turn around any time soon.

i was thinking about my suicide earlier, about how it would make all of you happier, you could just move on, and mostly forget about me, andrea you could go out with one of those other guys who can make you much more happy than i ever could, elise/sahana/everyone else, i doubt you would miss me, im a horrible person, i keep too many secrets and i hold too much in, learn from my mistakes and move on, my family would benefit from it, if not off the life insurance, off from the factthat thats one less mouth to feed and a bunch of less electricity and water expensises over theyears, they wouldnt have to pay for college or even really do anything besides put whats left of me in a box and bury me in the backyard, there's no reason to show respesct for the dead when you showed them no respect when they were alive.

i am nothing, but i exist,
living between the rifts,
ready to jump from cliffs,
maybe, in death ill find bliss,