Suicide

There is no way that the world "is". There is no perfect clear view of the world - only the picture we make in our own minds. I felt a failure because my standards like those of many young 'uns were extremely high. I felt unhappy because everyone I knew seemed happy (an illusion, I'm sure) and I was jealous. I felt guilty because I wasn't good enough - people in the world were starving while I enjoyed a luxurious life and yet I wasn't good enough to give it all up.

I felt unhappy because I felt unhappy and guilty because I felt guilty. It was a terrible downward spiral.

The condition of the mind, and of the brain, and of the soul, is unfathomable, however much we pretend otherwise. Because suicide is often, in the end, a violent and tragically successful attempt to introduce the absolute and incontrovertible into a world of inner chaos and doubt.