I can never make the world laugh unless it’s laughing at me.

This is the first sentence of my telling you all that as of now, I'm finally made up my mind. I understand that there are people I'll cause suffering to, but in the end, the rest of the world will be a far happier place without me as a part of it.

I've done far more bad than good for some people, and worse, there are some good things I've wanted to do for people that are simply not in my power to perform. In the end, my existence is insignificant to others and torturous to myself.

My life is either unsatisfying or it's absolutely stressful and miserable with little to no payoff or self-control. As a result, I'm an empty, incompetent, negative hollow shell of a man who was already making the world roll its eyes ever since I was just growing up.

In the end, I thought I could make my life matter and make it worth something, but now, I realize I'm no different than any other sap in this vain and painful existence I've suffered.

Dreams don't come true, and the whole meaning of life is simply to fail and fail and fail, with nothing to cope with other than making these empty promises of success to ourselves and pretend that things are going to get better for us when all we do is suffocate in this dark pit of failures and fuck-ups which is nothing but a sequence of idle dead-ends to the point where the best memories we ever had in life were the days we had briefly escaped from it, right before we were thrown back into the belly of the whale we managed to sneak our frail little minds out of.

I now know the meaning of life. The meaning of life is to continue to find ways to escape from it, until one day, we make the ultimate escape.

Will I kill myself? Probably not, but as of recently, I've been greatly idealizing it. I promised myself last year that I would have a good year, but it's like this every year, I'm afraid.

I will never be happy.