i can't see the joy in living.  i can only imagine the relief of dying.  consciousness is the absence of peace.  life is beautiful in a way, but it is too severely tarnished.

nothing it has to offer makes it worth going on.  yet i do, over and over. 

every day i'm a coward for more reasons than one.  is this it, is this all i've got?   i'm getting old.  i never used to wonder this sort of thing, not until the tragedy.

i don't miss her anymore, but it changed everything.  i haven't been the same since i lost my innocence.

what's the illusion, this or that?  i believe it's the former.  the latter is what's left and it's called misery.  it's called life, and life is hell.

Operation Transformation