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Boredome supreme..... I have decided to talk about death. I've always been curious as to how it feels to die, to tell the truth. I'm just not sure why I don't try it to see how it feels. I nearly did, too. Quite a few times. Never really pulled through with it. I used to think that maybe I just didn't have the guts to end my own life, but I can do nearly anything if I really think it'll be worth it. So I'm reckless and crazy and going to die someday soon. So what? I don't care. Or at least, I didn't care. Now, I do.

Still, I want to know death. But now, there is something holding me back. Perhaps I really have gone too far this time. Perhaps I walked too far, not seeing the leash about my throat until I choked on it. Maybe I've choked myself already. But any knot can be undone, even if you have to snip it apart. I prefer the challenge of working out the knots, though. It gives me something to do with my time.

The closest I actually came to killing myself was purely accidental, though. Shameful, really. I somehow managed to stab myself in the wrist with a sharpened arrow. It missed the vein by a mere 1.5 cm to the left. It didn't bleed much...and I didn't feel the pain. I don't feel it anymore. Physical pain doesn't affect me, but the inside's still raw.

It scares me how people always want me to be perfect. I'm not. It scares them to see that I feel fear, so for the sake of some peace and quiet, I don't. Or at least, I pretend I don't. I feel the fear, too. I just don't let on that I do, and they think I don't. They always come to me with their problems, asking my advice. Most of the time, I don't mind, and I try to help them, but every once in a while, this pillar weakens, and needs to lean on another for support. Except there isn't another. I wonder when it'll crumble.....

Probably not anytime soon, at any rate. Too many people out there who need my help still. I try to help them all, but sometimes, my patience comes to an end. It's at times like these that I feel like dying. But I can't. To know that your death could undo everything that you've painstakingly achieved over your lifespan is just plain frustrating. I'm not one to give up, but even I can't take this strain forever.

It angers me, sometimes, that every time I say something, I turn and grill it until I'm satsified that it won't hurt anyone, and then have someone thoughtlessly blurt something hurtful out. I'm not supposed to feel pain. I'm not supposed to cry. I don't. Cry, at least. Well, I do, but it takes time and experience to cry without tears. Sometimes, it just tears me up inside. But I can't let them see that. They rely on me to be someone to lean on. I don't want to let them down.

A little piece of me dies inside whenever someone hurts me. I'm missing most of myself. But with what little I have left, I can't give up. It's cursed stubborness that won't let me quit. No matter how broken I am, no matter how weak, I have to look like I'm still whole and strong. For their sake.......