133rd Post

Broken.

Hurt.
Confused.
Angry.
Silent.
Darkness.
Isolation.
Self destruction.

I don't know what to write anymore.
I don't know how much more can i take.

A bottle of vodka and a glass sits on the table.
Next to it.
Lies a razor.

To drink?
Or to cut?

Or to mix both together?
Blood and vodka.

Sigh.

Now.
I just wish to be left alone.
No family members to bother me.
No friends to ask me why.

Just me, a glass & plenty of drinks.
On an isolated island.
Enjoying the silence.
Enjoying my slow death.