Suicide Is Not A Blot On Anyone’s

I Wish I Could Explain It So Someone Could Understand It. I'm Afraid It's Something I Can't Put Into Words. There's Just This Heavy, Overwhelming Despair - Dreading Everything. Dreading Life. Empty Inside, To The Point Of Numbness. It's Like There's Something Already Dead Inside. My Whole Being Has Been Pulling Back Into That Void For Months. (81)

Nature Is The First Tutor. No One Remains Untouched Or Unschooled By The Earth, Seasons, And Heavens.

I Think That When You're Depressed, You Can't Concentrate Long Enough And Well Enough To Read For The Most Part; Some People Can, But By And Large People - That's One Of The First Things That Goes, Is The Capacity To Read Meaningful Literature. With Grief, That's Not True. For A While You Can't Read, But Then You Really Are Amenable To Solace.

It Is True That I Had Wanted To Die , But That Is Peculiarly Different From Regretting Having Been Born. Overwhelmingly, I Was Enormously Glad To Have Been Born, Grateful For Life, And I Couldn’t Imagine Not Wanting To Pass On Life To Someone Else.

Tumultuouness,if Coupled To Discipline And Cool Mind,is Not Such A Bad Sort Of Thing.that Unless One Wants To Live A Stunningly Boring Life,one Ought To Terms With One`s Darker Side Ad One`s Darker Energies