Dear "friend" I’ve lived my #life in a shroud of fear. heaven; nor hell, could break my faith in nothing. I’ve become an idol to none; and none were my idol. my dreams are fantasies dancing in my head. A self-made delusion created to protect me and my mind from the grim truth of reality; the reality that my #life is over and my dreams are lying around me in a scattered and chaotic mess. But from this chaos formed a phoenix of fiery desire; a desire to trample and destroy those who thought I was nothing, who reduced my soul to a decaying shell, leaving me as the personification of complete voidness; leaving me this cataclysmic #life. No more are the days were my blood boomed the voices of the damned as they Screamed and begged me to pour them out. No more of living in a world of darkness; a world where suicide was a second chance of something better, and #life was nothing but a burden. I would write and write and write words in sentences, in paragraphs, in chapters; my pen scarring the page the same way a razor would. The complex sentences would manifested in my mind until i saw perfection in the flaws! For me, my dear friend, suicide is not an option. I will not die my my own hands, I will not spill my blood over my own bitterness. Instead i will spill theirs. I'll see you soon.