Digging six-feet under

Soliloquy

All through your life, have you ever thought of getting a rope and hang yourself on it? Drown yourself on the sea of pills? Or even jump from the top building of who-knows-how-high just to get yourself killed?

Because if you ever did then I’m telling you, you’re not the only one. You’re just one of the million people whose thoughts wander on how to take his or her life in a swift move. And these issues circulating around me has always kept me wondering, since when did death become one’s haven that committing suicide has now been prevalent?

Maybe it’s the comfort – the comfort of knowing that there would be no more pressure to conform on the norms of society.  That being physically hurt is nothing compared to the emotional pain inflicted to us. It’s the kind of escape with no promise of return. It ain’t sweet; it’s a bitter one.

And it’s ironic how we think of dying when in fact we just wanted to feel alive. Inside us is a hidden tinge of hope; hope that even after all these chaos – failures, rejections, and heartbreaks is a promise of a new beginning. It’s just sometimes, the monsters residing on our mind is indeed much powerful than the hope that we wanted to feel.

No matter what circumstances life may bring, I hope we could all cling to the idea that these will all pass. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow, perhaps the next day. It’s just a matter of time.

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