It took me far too many years to piece together the fact that, medically, I'm not gonna live very long. I've understood parts of that for a while, but I thought it was simple as a rougher life as I get older, but it's a little worse than that. With this knowledge, I guess it gives me more motivation to let go further. It's a bittersweet freedom. All I wanted was to be free. Classic story of an abuse family and shitty upbringing, something I cant really escape. I've thought for years that death was a simple way out, just harsh enough, but a little tricky to achieve. I tried several times, before finally deciding I was too pussy to get it over with. And only once I finally think it's aside does the world tease me by saying I'll die soon anyway. I can feel the decline. I don't want my friends to know. They don't fully know me, but they care about the person they think I am. I don't want to scare them. I guess I'm just scared and don't wanna admit it.