Dear... Air
I hate myself, it's all I can think about. I want to rip the flesh from my bones. I want everything to stop. I am so tired of this useless existence. I feel like the air in my lungs is wasted, there are so many people with beautiful lives that will achieve wonderful things and I'm stealing the oxygen from their mouths.
The world is beautiful and I know that, I know that. But I can't understand it. When does breath stop being breath? When is it only air? When will my breath become air? I need respite from my mind. And I can't help thinking that maybe if my breath was air it would stop. But my breath remains breath full of carbon dioxide, oxygen and nitrogen, it insists on excruciatingly sustaining life.