"The irrational completes us."
- The Book of Lights, Chaim Potok


TERRIBLY SANE

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THE DIARY OF PETRICHOR




petrichor ['pe-trê-ko(r) or -tri-]
the smell of rain on dry ground.


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----RECENT ENTRIES----
- - Saturday, Apr. 22, 2017
- - Thursday, Aug. 07, 2014
- - Friday, Mar. 14, 2014
Alone By Lack of Self-Trust - Tuesday, Oct. 01, 2013
Yearning for Tears - Sunday, Sept. 29, 2013

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zwischen Thursday, Aug. 07, 2014 - 22:35 mensch


IF ANYONE STILL READS THESE OBSCURE, QUIET THOUGHTS, MY GUESTBOOK HAS FINALLY BEEN FIXED.

I used to have reasons to live. But I don't want to live for anyone anymore. I don't want to live for me. I don't want to "contribute to society". I don't care anymore about fighting for any causes. I ask myself why should I wait to die. And nothing comes to mind. I don't know why I choose to continue living. Maybe it is simply I don't have the motivation to end my life. Or maybe it is mere habit. I am not living, however, because of any hope for anything. Meanwhile, I will be moving far, far away from home soon. I may as well follow through. And then maybe after a year or so, I'll end this life already. This move then will be my last hurrah. And then, I have no other plans remaining. That'll be it. And there won't be anything more to do. No more plans. And I can leave this life.

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ter·ri·bly 1. in a terrible manner. 2. extremely; exceedingly; very. [Colloq.]




















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