DESPAIR
I accepted and surrendered myself to the night, being alone I felt absolute incomprehension; despair and hopelessness sheltered me, and like a deep dark veil a raw pessimism gnawed at my bones. I stopped lying to myself, I felt insignificant, I stopped flattering myself, I stopped persuading myself not to kill myself, I stopped inventing reasons to live.
I’ve been to places I never thought I’d be, I’ve gone to the depths of the earth and the flames burned my body. Damn life, only in life do you experience hell. I must use aggressive words to describe it, however, at this point nothing has color, everything is tasteless and without any reason to be. The emptiness, the feeling of nothingness, the flight from existence, the extinction of all meanings. Once I was there full of shame and hopelessness. I felt the arrival at the bottom of the stairs to hell and burned with my own thoughts.
Ah! so many sensations, I don’t know if there is anyone on earth who has been able to experience them all. The fear of nothingness melts and is extinguished together with love and joy. As if it were an invention of the Universe, everything beautiful loses its color because in reality nothing is beautiful, and colors lose their meaning. In every instant death is present and seduces me with its charms. The heart surrenders to love and begins to feel the dark mantle of truth that completely covers the soul.
More than once I thought of suicide, and since then I understood life better. I never saw it as something sad, I haven’t cried for years, I no longer suffer for anything. So young and so old, I feel that I have lived too much despite my young age. I feel that I understand better an old man about to pass away than the presumption of the young man beginning to have faith in his goals in life, always looking to fill his emptiness with more emptiness. I will always be a loser, never resembling anything, to float in my own sky.
Nothing really matters to me; I could leave the world at any moment. I overcame the fear of living and also of dying. Nothing can impress me, I dedicated myself to experience all the capital experiences from which all the small pleasurable sensations are derived, and I have read too many pages of books that narrate unimaginable things, which take me to the limits of thought. Nothing awakens amazement in me, everything I understand quickly and hence my weariness of living, now I know how to live, and every form of life is absurd or insatiable, now I no longer live for something, I just live without reason, just as my birth was without reason, because by chance I was placed with parents who did not choose their son and I had to get used to my parents in the same way. I feel fortunate not to feel attachment to anything but myself, not to my life, but only to my existence.
There is not a day in my life that I do not have the thought of suicide present, it haunts me every night and every morning, or perhaps it is I who haunts it. The feeling produced in me by the thought of ceasing to exist, abandoning this life for which I was not responsible, abandoning the world that is indifferent and falling apart, is very voluptuous. There was a time when my selfishness told me about doing something in this world, maybe change it, or make it better, then that intellectual masturbation left my head and I thought that the works I can do will never stop the course of the world, I no longer want to change anything, I want to be a man who contemplates the massacre of hell sitting from the top of the trees.
Once upon a time my pride would let out a sigh of nostalgia telling me that I should leave a legacy or an image that would rescue me from the oblivion of the people or my closest ones. Fortunately, my objectivity made that thought be replaced by the desire for my memory to die along with me, to be a sigh that dies away and falls into the grave, as well as into oblivion. Now nothing prevents my farewell, I could die at any moment, I feel strengthened, neither words, nor offenses, nor loneliness, nor bullets, nor extinctions, nor my past, nor the future can awaken fear in me, I am a being free of all illusion and hope, I never want to deceive myself, I do not believe in absolutely nothing, neither gods nor temples, nor superstitions, nor dead in the sky to accompany me, nor a partner to give me the illusion of living. Without isolating myself from the world I am in absolute solitude, without crying I will say goodbye to my dead, without fear or sadness I will walk to my death, I owe nothing to anyone, no one is able to penetrate my gaze, I observe the hearts of people and I feel their pain, I walk and observe them all equally confused, all equally pathetic begging for attention, begging for a little piece of love that gives reason to their existence, existence that should never have been. They are not needed in the world, just like me, we are all looking for reasons to live, but there is none.