Long time no see! I’ve read some diaries and here are some thoughts in my head:
what if death isn’t an escape? What if it’s not relief, but a continuation, just in another form?
Maybe those who choose to leave don’t end up in hell or heaven. Maybe they’re sent somewhere else. A place in between.
I imagine it as a scorched wasteland, where there’s no joy and no pain, only silence that hums like an endless echo. Everyone there is just like you: people who were tired, who decided to stop everything too soon. And it isn’t hell, but it’s no better. Just another trap.
And the more I think about it, the clearer it becomes: suicide isn’t the end of suffering. It might just be its continuation, only without a chance to change anything. Or maybe I’m wrong, and we are nothing more than bodies carrying energy, and when death comes, there is simply nothing at all.
But still, don’t give up, guys, live on !