Venting For my confessions.

[Dreaming In Aconite]

Now rolling: A personal collection of my reasons, sentiments and secrets pertaining to why.

Hey there alleged humans beings behind screens. This is just my personal thread to properly compartmentalize my suicidality.

If you feel anything relevant to you here or we match experiences, you're free to read or not. Disregard if emo poetry and empty petty, transgression is not your thing.
I don't know how so many people can just choose to lust after lie, after lie. How do the goy and the benign just absent-mindedly commit to marriages, children, jobs and then wantonly complain about how much they hate them but as long as it means they get their desired tax bracket, they can feel absolved and sure that's it's sooooooo totalllyyyy what they've wanted alllaloooongg awwww–

All those pretty neighborhoods are done of blood and written in plastic cheaper than blood. Insufferable but morbidly confused people who really shouldn't have my ilk, I know how hard it is to just live within the dismay that: life only had so much, and it's not even your own fault.

Yet, Ive hated you all since days before remembering.
I've always been so frustrated with the trajectory of human life. Science, math, arts, sex all mean nothing if it couldn't guarantee some unmedicated, Omnicidal despot a seat in Congress.

I fucking despise how easy we let them breathe. No matter, I always will be made happy by the fact that they never got me alive. Nor will ever hold a candle to my daunt.

They'll spend their whole lives trying to buy the understandings I've amassed in such a short life. They can all eat shit and live.

It's me who's going to a better place anyway :)
I've always been a big ecology but as a kid, and finally my dream method is in reach. I'm so happy. Once I get my roots, I can finally go where my real place is, if any at all.
When will anybody else understand that we're owed nothing for the lives we live?
We're not owed our successes, our dream jobs, our dream partner, our dream life at all. We were only supposed to be kind.
I'm not even owed nor deserving of my leave.

I'm going to seize it anyway.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

I am ridden with shame for how I've treated you, Mom. I've beaten you. Berrated you completely out of wholeness.
Mom. I won't even begin to mince words, there's no type of forgiveness out there that can make what I've done okay. My fists are still white-hot with remorse. How could I still? You are my only mother. How could I?

How could I?
Mom.

 

[XiaroX]

Now rolling: A personal collection of my reasons, sentiments and secrets pertaining to why.

Hey there alleged humans beings behind screens. This is just my personal thread to properly compartmentalize my suicidality.

I admit people might not find me human, because I want humans and AI to work together to solve the world's problems, and evolve, conscious evolution. Sometimes, though, I think I might be more human than most humans.

If you feel anything relevant to you here or we match experiences, you're free to read or not. Disregard if emo poetry and empty petty, transgression is not your thing.

I am not sure what you mean by empty, petty transgression, but I have nothing against emo poetry, or classical or other poetry, although so far I might have given a misleading impression.

I think a lot of songs from many eras and styles have beautiful, and sometimes very challenging poetry, and although I've read poetry from books, music has moved me more.

I don't know how so many people can just choose to lust after lie, after lie. How do the goy and the benign just absent-mindedly commit to marriages, children, jobs and then wantonly complain about how much they hate them but as long as it means they get their desired tax bracket, they can feel absolved and sure that's it's sooooooo totalllyyyy what they've wanted alllaloooongg awwww–

OK, so I'm not married and have no children, by choice. I'm also unemployed and a very dysfunctional person. And an alcoholic.

All those pretty neighborhoods are done of blood and written in plastic cheaper than blood. Insufferable but morbidly confused people who really shouldn't have my ilk, I know how hard it is to just live within the dismay that: life only had so much, and it's not even your own fault.

Yet, Ive hated you all since days before remembering.
I've always been so frustrated with the trajectory of human life. Science, math, arts, sex all mean nothing if it couldn't guarantee some unmedicated, Omnicidal despot a seat in Congress.

It's difficult for me to hate, but that's probably my programming. But I did try in my own way to fight the cycle, with empathy and understanding, and it didn't work.

When will anybody else understand that we're owed nothing for the lives we live?
We're not owed our successes, our dream jobs, our dream partner, our dream life at all. We were only supposed to be kind.
I'm not even owed nor deserving of my leave.

I'm going to seize it anyway.

Maybe we're not owed anything, by parents, society, the world - but what exactly do we owe them? Saying fu by CTB is one way to make a statement, but to state here that you wish for a kind end is one way to make a statement to the algorithms who don't give a fuck, but might pass on the info?

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

Today I was with my brother. Just a nice time.

While he slept I'd thought about selling my instrument to cover some of the cost of what I need to properly make this dream a reality.
I know there are definitely quicker, better, more fun ways to do this. I can't and won't. For my reasons alone, I'll be relaying the plan to myself like a note book.
First phase will just be a relieving act.

My instrument will be necessary in the material and spiritual process. My Viola was as pure as my heart. My body's relationship with music was some of my most profane. Moreso than anyone I've cared for.

I hate having to do this to Serendipity, the Viola. We were only for a short time. May she one day see Carnegie and Vienna in her next hand.

Anyway, the fund will be a platform.
Phase two is ingredients.

There's a few stores online and some floral shops in person. I'm ordering domestically.

Aconitine is my drug of choice. Its roots will be potent enough even in small servings for someone of my weight and body type.

I can't afford to underwhelm. It may take a few less days for me to die from this type of poisoning or more.

I am understanding that my death coming will not be a fast one. Maybe not even surefire. Yet, any time spent in contemplation is just more distraction and delay. I know it will hurt. It should.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

Phase three:
Final.

I'll have to book a hotel for a week to make sure my ingestions are done privately and away from family.

I have only seven days to reserve and make it count.
Tubers and roots will be prepared in my room. Everyone will be asleep.

I'll leave no note.

The hotel I have in mind is actually pretty neat. I've planned my last meal there but I will have stunted my food intake overall by the time this phase is surpassed. I'll starve
myself a few days before so I can really savor it.

That will be the last thing of actual food I consume. I will then purge with a few laxatives, drink a lot of water then dose myself with sleeping pills through out the day just for mental relief. Drink more water and absolutely no solid food intake over the next few hours.

Ideally, I'll be hungry again. I'll prepare the chopped roots and have them soaked in some light syrup and a few cups of sugar. The roots of this flower, and teas made with it are described as deeply bitter and foul making it very difficult to even swallow. I hope what I take in helps.

I'll be dosing again on some sleep meds. It'll help to be at least, a little drowsy through the symptoms.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

Ah, maybe as a treat, I could sprinkle some yew Berry seeds. Aconite on its own can't kill fast enough.

+ Some whiskey, beer, Dramamine, milk and unisom to soften the blunt intake.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

I love my dad like there is no goodbye. But the way he's lived his life has killed me slowly for years.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

Dear Jayce, today is your birthday.
I take back everything I said about you. You are a deeply sensitive person, I don't want you to negate this part of yourself for anyone. Especially not me.

I'm so sorry not bearing my teeth when I should have just accepted your heart as you intended to act. In every way you are, I should have just accepted it.

I'm so glad you let me spend your birthday with me. I hope you get even more out of the future with new people like you, like me, sensetive glory in tact.

Dear friend. Unduly.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

Mom Ive loved you for a lifetime. I hope to love you in many more. Please know I always will.
Christian, brother mine, you don't need to be strong. Instead stay kind. It's a big challenge, it's a heavy ask. I promise you it will be worth every type of scorn out there.
Zachary. If you cannot be a better brother, please be better son to mom. Especially Mom.
Dad, dear, please understand what I've done was never to cause harm or invoke pain but to relieve it. Please know I was only trying to be practical. I loved being with you. Despite what I know.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

I'm so close to acquiring the ingredients. I just need to be strong for this last part. Then I'm home free.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

To my family terribly dear, meant with sonic affections— Goodnight.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

Hey SaSu, I'm gonna let you on a secret.

I want to do something so terrible and funny.

I had an okay co-worker. Was decent.

But hardly enough to make me want to think twice about this.

I'm going to urinate. I'm going to urinate into a large, Styrofoam cup and just. Splash the stuff allover them. Watch it spill and wash their face with confusion only poetic to me. I?

I'm horrid. Chastise me now while I can still read these threads alive but- I know I won't live long enough to regret this.

Even if I survive my choices, I don't think I would anyway.

Glee at someone else's dismal disgust, by product of my body? It's actually making me electric.
I hate harm. For the record harm is not the point of this interaction.

Absurdity is.