I want to write about the futility of love and emotions.
How it is all utterly pointless.
We are all going to die.
Every stupid human being is going to die.
Being married, having a family, taking care of others and being in school will have next to no meaning.

Death is an impossible wiping clean of the slate.

If there is "luck" to be found in faith, things will not be the same.

But still, everything as it is will be gone.
Dead.
Erased.
Burned.
Made new.

I don't enjoy the pain of my body.
Nor the fear and guilt in my mind.

Something new.
Something old.
And this world is broken and used.

I want to believe, hope in love...but my faith is so weak.
My emotions so scattered on the winds.
The easiest choice in the world would be self destruction.
Not temperance or choosing to not numb the pain.

Maybe it's righteousness.
Or maybe pure stupidity.

I miss...

It doesn't matter who I miss.
It all ends the same.
But...the hope is that the end isn't an end.

New beginnings, God I so desperately cling to that hope.
Nothing else makes any sense.
Has, can or will make sense.