Anyone else feel like they’re just procrastinating their suicide

half of tumblr wants to fuck, the other half wants to die

“If I ever overdose, it was on purpose.”

—

"the date of your funeral doesn't really matter, once you're able to look into yourself deep enough to realize, that you already died many, many years ago."

"If you're using for how you feel when you get high, you're an addict. If you're using to avoid how you feel when you don't, you're lost."

In every war, you can either fight, run, die or surrender.

If you choose to fight your enemy, every single one of your failed attempts will cost you energy and lower your confidence, which will decrease your chance to win in general. The more you fight, the weaker you get.

If you decide to run, no one will bother to go after you. Sooner or later you'll willingly return back just to remember, what exactly you were running from.

If you die, it will be as a result of your own choice. You were the one who decided to join this war in the first place.

If you're too exhausted to fight or run, but still not willing to die, you'll give up, surrender, and your enemy will make you an offer: No more pain, no more struggling, you'll get to live in peace. He will take care of you, and all you have to do is let him without resisting. You accept the offer.

You've found your peace, the pain is gone, everything and everyone is gone, the only one who's always by your side is your friend you once called an enemy.

There are rare moments, mostly just seconds, when you feel trapped for some reason. But there are no guards. You can leave any time, you know it.
You're not stupid. You know exactly what is going on. You know it's all wrong, and you're very well aware that you should break the deal, try to win your freedom back and fight for your life until you die, but... the longer you live like this, the less you think about any of it.

Sometimes you get sad for unknown reasons, but when start to remember, the sadness is so cruel that it doesn't even allow you to cry. You regret every moment you wanted to commit suicide, but decided not to.
Because at this point, you don't even care about your life enough to finally end it.

The voice in the back of your head, the one you made a deal with, is there for you, whispering "Let me help you."

You know you need help. You are in deep shit. You are fucked, you are devastated, you are in terrible pain and most importantly, you are the only one to blame.

"Okay."

And after that,
all you are
is gone.

i need $$$ not feelings