I wish I felt numb again. Not feeling anything is blissful, to be a cracked gong that makes not a sound no matter how hard it's hit. But I only ever achieved that by heavily drugging myself. I hate feeling burning hate and icy rage in between deep depression doldrums where nothing grows but the sadness and ennui. I can't handle rawdogging reality anymore. Give me the artificial void of inner nonexistence, or at best a facsimile thereof. The rare good feels I do experience are not worth the vast majority of negativity engulfing me. I'm tired of feeling, I'm tired of thinking, I'm tired of being tired, I'm tired of being, I'm tired of going through all the trouble of survival for no real reason and no higher purpose but to be occasionally entertained like barely poking my face above the thrashing waters of the deep to catch a quick breath in between nigh constant drowning in sorrow.