No Title is No Title

As I'm typing this, I am feeling extremely overwhelmed by the stresses and emotions—all in one. I've got to be honest, I idolizes the thought of ending life. My own life. Maybe it's because it's too exhausting to lived. Maybe it's because I don't want to lived. Maybe it's because dying is better than living? 

But what can I do? My religion forbids suicide. Suicide is haram. Ending own life is haram. If the world is cruel and it hurts me to the point I couldn't breath, why do I lived? I don't foresee my future. In fact I see nothing. I am not excited for things that could make me smile. Everything is temporary. What is what? 

Dying is scary. I can't imagine myself in that deep hole, in white shroud, covered with earth soils and rubbles, waiting to be questioned by the Angel of Death and experiencing those nightmares of creepy crawlies. As much as I want to die, I don't want to die. I want to lived but if the world isn't being kind, then why should I? 

I admire those who is brave enough to end their life. They're brave but I'm not. Maybe I want to lived, relived in those pain and experience every heartbreak. Every harsh memories. That'd be nice.