Suicide

Sup, it’s Ji.

I’ve always wondered why people commit such a harsh sin, thinking it as a way to "resolve" their problems. Why can’t they face them? Such drastic measures, I think.

Didn’t they ever stop to think that once they end their lives, who would miss them? Who they would place in an endless loop of sorrow and mourning? But, then again, perhaps, that is their motive: to make the people around them realize how much they really meant to them. To make those people miss them. To get noticed. To be remembered.

How ironic. To get finally get noticed when you’re dead. And quite frankly, that’s not a good way to get remembered. Why? Well, because I think that you would want to get remembered for the good things and accomplishments you’ve done, not that…bizarre and inane.

Also, I would end up hating the person because they chose to end their life.

Besides, once they’re dead, they’ll wither away into an endless oblivion. Not many people will remember them. All their memories would probably whisk away in the dust.

So, really, was committing suicide in the end really worth it? No. Just no. I don’t care what your issue is, you can’t end your life for it. That’s pathetic. It’s crazy.

Though, I may be talking to myself more than anything right now. Why? Well, because…I had thoughts of suicide just lingering around in my mind. I just wanted to die. Just end it right there and be done with the world. But, please, don’t misunderstand me. These suicidal thoughts came to me involuntarily.

I can’t really explain it. Of course there were other things that could have contributed and all, but to me, it seemed strange. I’ve always felt depressed since I was 12. So, why would I want to just end it all so suddenly? Surely if I was depressed for so many years, I would have thought of suicide back then.

*sighs* I’m probably not making much sense and I’m being a little evasive I think.

Ironically, while suicide was on my mind, some other guy killed himself and it was on the Internet and whatever. This other kid pretended to have committed suicide (ha-ha, I’m not going to go too much into that…) and I think it woke me up. I mean, as to why I shouldn’t do it.

Strange, I think it is.

But then, I’ve always wondered what would have happened if I killed myself already. What would have happened…I don’t know. But I don’t think I really want to think too much about it.

-JiJ

What is considered to be beautiful or ugly?

I’ve seen many times where a guy/girl sees another girl/guy to be beautiful when someone else may see that guy/girl ugly. Basically, what is considered to be beautiful and attractive to someone may be ugly and hideous to another. But I think this applies primarily on the "ugly" people. They can be beautiful or ugly, it all depends on who looks at them.

Strange how that works.

And I think that’s unfair. Being called ugly cannot bring out good feelings. Only unhappiness and sorrow.

I look at myself in the mirror sometimes. Like, really look at myself. I take in everything and just let it sink in. Sometimes, I hate what I see. I want to run my fist through the damn mirror, make it shatter to a bazillion pieces. I’d let the shards cut my skin and allow the blood to trickle down onto the floor.

Sometimes, I feel like taking a knife to slash myself from the top of my left eye down to my chin. I’d make the cut deep, but not deep enough to "kill" me or make all my guts gush out. Just enough to leave a permanent scar. Then I’d take an electric razor and cut off all my hair. Every strand. Everything.

After all that, I’d sit in bathtub in the dark with my head buried upon my knees. The cold shower would be running, washing away my blood; letting it swirl in a red cyclone down the drain. Or maybe I’d let the water fill the bathtub, overflowing with my diluted blood. A bloody blood bath in my own bloody blood. I’d let myself drown in it all.

But at other times, I’d look at myself and think that I’m pretty. But that feeling lasts only temporarily. It’s a feeling I should probably forget.

*sighs* Sometimes, I want someone to hug me and tell me that I’m beautiful. To tell me that I make them happy. To tell me that they will take care of me and love me. All I need is a savior. Where is he? I’m waiting ;) I can just keep dreaming. It’s not going to happen. There is no savior for me. I’m on my own. And, if I am not happy myself, then how can I make anyone else happy?