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End of the Beginning
I want to kill myself on a bridge.
Technically over a bridge. By my logic it’s quick and freeing. The air rushing up to meet me, the breath filling my lungs, the lightning quickness of the rocks splitting my head open.
Yes. I’m sorry but I want to kill myself.
Days are just a blur of someone I don’t recognize. It makes me tired. It makes me invisible. The idea of being seen has never really got to me until I hit twenty-three. That big number. Where you’ve already accomplished so much and set up pedestals to achieve more. Where you’ve got your shit together enough to get your actual shit together.
...
Technically over a bridge. By my logic it’s quick and freeing. The air rushing up to meet me, the breath filling my lungs, the lightning quickness of the rocks splitting my head open.
Yes. I’m sorry but I want to kill myself.
Days are just a blur of someone I don’t recognize. It makes me tired. It makes me invisible. The idea of being seen has never really got to me until I hit twenty-three. That big number. Where you’ve already accomplished so much and set up pedestals to achieve more. Where you’ve got your shit together enough to get your actual shit together.
...
