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by AZRAEL
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #2148193
When you read this, you think you know where it is going, but truth be told you don’t

To Whom It May Concern:



I inscribe this in a profound empathy, to who ever find this, let the peer of the realm our deity give them vigor to prolong interpretation….
I cannot go on, I have steadfast be that is it may, I am nowhere to be found, and I am in discomfort and defective of trying. I do not know how much enduring I can go on. There is no hope, no future, no …. Nonentity, I have died out, I feel ineffective, like I do not fit in this epoch. I cannot go further on in carnage myself, WHY GOD, WHY ME. You say, every person has a function yet, more do I necessitate doing to find my intention? On the other hand, is their any at all?
All I do is I facilitate inhabitants; I facilitate them throughout their nuisance, and converse them in the course of basic coherent elucidation. I make faction express amusement. Hitherto in the end… im wedged with the short end of the stick, I have to deal with my melancholy unaccompanied, in the dark. WHY GOD DAMNIT IT IS NOT FAIR!
I mean what is the use. What tangible function do I have? That can make a petite divergence in an immense means or diminutive means. Shit Fuck I bet if I would go omitted, no one would be bothered.
Is my destiny to end up like Robin Williams? He made a immense brunt on the humanity for the better, he made millions express amusement, he did all this and that, YET., that wasn’t good for him, his hopelessness got the best of him, and he ultimately didn’t give a flying FUCK anymore that he exterminated himself. Now tell me if that makes any sagacity at all, I feel the same. Where no one understands me, no one speak my tongue. No one even tries to comprehend me. Im ensnared, like a mice in a maze. With the exception of there is no way to the cheese im surrounded by walls.
Whom can I go see? Will anyone in a despondent planet, which will identify with, what im obtainable in the course of? Is that even doable, as I put in writing this I think numerous ways to murder myself, where I live at drugs are easily obtainable I could just shoot up heroin and overindulge. Would anyone care? In all probability not, their probably thinking that is how I will die. Truth- be- told that is how I see my bereavement, as a fortuitous overdose. I have done coke, crystal, weed, you name it, and I have done it. Snorted it smoked it, all sorts of ways. Just a matter of time before, I accidently do too much.
Than again, I do not know why I persist to try, where I prolong to move on and go advance. Maybe there is a reason? Maybe I am not that far lost in the flock of sheep. On the other hand, maybe purely I just do not have time deal with emotions. Consequently, I fasten out all emotions and obstruct it all out, after all Spock always did say “Emotions clouds judgment.”
All I identify is that time for me is consecutively absent I have to outline what I am going to do. In addition, Im twenty- three years old and I have already exhausted three years of my life. Only, two years left. In anticipation of, I am a half a century. I would have washed out a half a century.
This is what I confidently accept as true; we will be judge by the highest court one way or another. The most rewarding thing to me when knowing this, whoever did me immoral one way or another they WILL BE judge as a result. When it is my turn, I will stand firm my ground, and acknowledge whatsoever will be coming my way. Like the famous singer ‪Charlie Daniels‬ sang in “Pay back time” there is no Gold or silver that can afford the best attorney when you are about to be judged.

Respectfully, JOSEPH EDGAR KESSENICH
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