Sometimes I think that the only way to be truly heard by people and express what you really don't have the words for is to perish.
I can tell it all to a canvas and for a moment feel grateful that at least something understands me, but it turns out that I'm just talking to the mirror. There is no compassion other than my own. There is no one else listening.

Bitter irony of being surrounded by good people, but still being so utterly lonely. Being alive, but wish to fade.