  I sometimes wonder,  as I do right now,  what the fucking bleeding hell I'm doing.  Here I sit clicking my life gone once again,  ever acknowledging with each and every breath in the Turkish philosophy sense of the words,  that I am dying this very minute,
 and that every breath I exhale,  and everytime the blood in my heart delivers that wonderous life- giving oxygen to the rest of my body,  every goddamned time,  it's inevitably meaning one more stroke of the steel to the flesh,  one more beat that causes this flesh irrevocable damage,
 the beat shall never return,  the damage,  however small,  is leading us onward inevitably towards that black,  aching pit called death with no light,  no future,
 no sounds.  Only silence and the grim realization that the past,  just as the future and the present,  are truly nothing.  That the very whim of creation was to take life and let it make choices,  mostly ones that would destroy it,
 and then lead it to black at the end of its time,  from whence it came,  and where it all will inevitably wind up.  Death.  It feels the same way at this moment,  as it did when I put my mouth on the end of that 45 and dropped that goddamned baggage for a few seconds,
 the wonderous beauty of liberation,  and the horror of clarity,  that life is a pit,  and we are the bastards deemed to find the bottom,  in life or without life,  but inevitably,
 we will reach the bottom;  some of us will taste it before we meet it,  and some of us will hit it before the rest of ourselves can catch up.  Some of us just weren't meant to see the clear and the wonderful I hear about.  Some of us are made to prematurely taste the bottom because nature says there has to be a balance.  If the world were without people that weren't fixated on their own destruction,
 it would mean a race of people engaging nature and fully working against it,  a species that would inevitably rise above the confines of nature.  They put the ones alive on the bottom here so that we are inhibited as a whole,  not all of us will unite,  we are the ones to show everyone else their own eventual damnation.  We were put here to circumvent rising above nature,
 and nature does this by utilizing our most potent and,  in the man- beast sense of the word,  only tool:  our very minds.  Our minds were bred of destruction for survival,
 the art of survival is destruction.  Some of us may only compensate for the full awareness of our inevtiable demise by cutting ourselves in the mental sense,  thereby achieving equalibrium again:  you cut,  you rise back above,  you sink back down.
 Balance through imbalance.  Yet nature doesn't take into account that its scales may be unevely weighted.  Equalibrium comes with acceptance:  we have a choice to accept this middle ground or not,  which,  sadly,
 a great few of us do not,  and of those great few,  there are varying degrees of non- acceptance.  Many who believe themselves to be upon the middle ground do not take this into account,  and thereby further incriminate and induce self-
destruction upon those that cannot accept their constant exposure to inevitability.  I came into this world with a choice:  the choice to live,  or the choice to die.  I have taken a long,  subjective look at this world and everything it stands for,
 how it lives,  how things work within it,  how things are carried out,  how we breathe,  how we survive,  everything about it I have surveyed for as long as I can stand,
 and I have decided that,  though I continue and will continue to stand among the living,  I choose death,  because death is my fate,  death is my perception,  death is the only option to those who have felt the bottom as strong as I.
 Death comes with the sadness of grief that always hits a human with loss.  I feel no relief,  I feel only the comfort of acknowledgement,  that my path is set,  that I believe this,  however morbid,
 that life comes to death and that this,  like everything,  is inevitable.  Everything,  absolutely everything eventually comes to it,  your happiness,
 your longevity,  your well- being,  all of these things will be ruined by it.  Why not let things slip away when you are already so attuned to it?  Goddamn this world for bringing me so close to the pit,
 yet leaving me still so far away.
