i happen to be reading this book about a junior who shot up his school and killed himself. i thought to myself the other day, “i completely understand this kid.” i don’t know if i’m going insane, but i don’t think it’s at all his fault. i genuinely think people deserve to be shot up. it’s not as if i’m contemplating shooting up my school, but so many people have earned it. i’ve noticed a decline in my well being over the past year or so, and the main thing i hate about it is people’s bullshit. if they understand, then why don’t they intervene? why do they leave me to my own vulture? i’ve never harmed myself or anything of the sort, primarily because i’m too scared to. if i had the courage, i would be dead by now. the boy in the book made a point of saying that if someone is to go, it’s better to go with flare. i think it’s really strange that i agree with that statement. i don’t feel any sadness for the victims or the friends/family of the victims. they all deserve it, because it’s everyone’s fault they don’t help. if i actually executed a school shooting, i wouldn’t do it to the people that cared for me. i would do it to everyone else. everyone else needs some straightening out. if they didn’t, they’d bother to reach out to all of the other depressed people in my school. i know for a fact i’m not the only one with mental issues. no one is a good person. everyone has flaws that take away from any good deeds they’ve done in the past. the people that reach out to the depressed aren’t good people either, they’re just better people. everyone deserves to die. their lack of doing anything to help signals that enough.
i’ve made a mental list of people i’d kill if i got a chance to. that has to be some red flag, right? the problem is that no one seems to give a shit. not to sound like that generic teen, but again, no one understands. my parents don’t understand. my friends (or lack thereof) don’t understand. my teachers don’t understand. if i were to go, i’d want to make it be felt with aftershocks. i want people to know that they did wrong. i want people to know that i don’t give a shit about their grief. i’ve already been lost. now, i’m merely a carcass that can do one thing: have emotions. life is a blur, and emotions are my only definition of time. why is life worth living when you don’t have a chance? i would never kill my parents, even though they’re part of the reason. and it’s not for a moral reason. the reason is that i want them to feel where they fucked up. i want them to feel remorse for years upon years. that’s how they can understand. that’s how everyone can fucking understand. emotions are heaven and hell. they need to feel both to know their place and sit the fuck down.