I would really like to kill myself, but I’m just too afraid to do that. I’m a coward, like the great coward. I try to look back what did I do wrong. How can I born into this world. I really want to know what kind of effort that I did in order to reach the ovarium. I’m just a random sperm. I always convince myself that I should enjoy, or even if I can’t enjoy, just please feel the sadness and absorb all the mixed feeling about how I’d really like when want to kill myself. I don’t care. I don’t have any aspiration at all. I’m too dumb to process any of this. This fixed mindset, I always try to open to any experience. But it seems like I don’t want to experience any at all. I even have forced myself to let it go. Plesae go, the thought of disappearing and kill myself! Just try to search, to search, and to search. I forced that word to myself. But simply I don’t know what I am searching for. Like I don’t want to be satified or feel as a whole. I don’t know what I am searching for. I don’t know what I want. The feeling of this is very much different from what I have been through previously. I was crying and burst a lot of energy, feel so sad and feel sorry for myself, I even regret that I missed the prayer. But right now the feeling of that is no longer happen to me. I don’t feel sad or afraid, and I am not afraid of missing all the prayer. I always been taught that hell is terrifying, but the concept of hell now does not make me afraid of it. I just don’t understand why I can’t believe in all those things anymore. The things that I still afraid is just I am afraid of killing myself, even though that idea is the most ellegant ideas that I find a symbol of braveness, peace, and freedom. But I am just too coward to do that. I don’t have intention to enjoy anything. I am not interested in people, or want to try anything. I have comed up to the conclusion that get out of comfortable zone is a lie. Some people just really like to be in a state of chaos and to be challenged. I was an ambitious person who really like challenge, but I realized that it is not a challenge, it’s just because I don’t know what I need to do, so I need to try to prove to everyone I don’t care about. Maybe I need to have sex and get married, try to love again. But I don’t really have an interested in understanding others and I don’t want to be understood either. Maybe as long as she have sex with me and she has a hobby is enough. And I keep stuck in my room alone to think what this is all about and how to kill myself beautifully. The things is I don’t know why I need to support the freedom of random nation, or to oppose to genocide, or to fight bullying. I just don’t understand why I should maintain humanity.
And I remember when yesterday I bought Tahu Gejrot, I suspect the seller seen me as a depressed guy, he tried to entertain me with little talks, “How many chilli do you want?… Would you like me to add the water?. And after he prepared he tried to make a joke, “Pake tahu?”. And I just replied in a funny tone, of course I bought tofu, not only buying the water chilli. He replied and said to me just don’t be too serious and giggle. I don’t understand why we need to make other people smile, why we need to entertain others whenever they are looks sad. Some artists I know, they really want to be depressed so they could create more art. A deep sadness could make you more to be creative and empathetic, so some people really want to sad and depressed, to create something that people can feel, so they feel not alone, and then the creator could feel they they are needed in this world. The circle of nonsense between the creator and the art they created, I just don’t understand why. Like we really believe that if a baby is crying, we should stop the crying by provide anything she wants. And whenever they are smiling we feel that it is some kind of achievement like you find the cure of cancer. I just don’t understand why people live in automatic way. They create law because law itself doesn’t exist. We’re just guessing everytime. We don’t know anything. And there’s so much thing I don’t know. I don’t have an intention to know all of it. And the process of sesarching, as I said before, I start to question about why do I need to keep searching something I knew that it can’t be found. And that something only can be found if I die. And if the end is what’s matter, why should I waiting to try to pretend to busy all the time to some people called as improving the world, and they are not improving the world. They just perceived that they have improved the world, while the world it self doesn’t tell you that you should improve them. You have no idea what you mean by improving. We always guessing, that improving the world means to make more people happy. But I seem found that the eternal losing gaps between an opposite state is just nonsense, the perfect equilibrium utopia, I don’t understand why people strive to do that. Maybe there’s something wrong with how I view this world, there might be possibilities so I could try to search again. But I just don’t know, whether is nature or nurture, I always being taught and have an instinct to search the fastest path. This is making me perceive myself as a lazy person. But I don’t find reason why I need to be busy. Like I don’t really want to enjoy. Like this process of writing in the keyboard is I could enjoy at this time. But I always think too far away, because I am afraid of how little preparation at all. Ah… I find the second thing I am afraid, that I don’t prepare for something. But it seems like a contradiction. I don’t know what should I prepare, and I am just afraid to kill myself. Back again to enjoyment of writing this in a keyboard. I really can imagine where in the future, we don’t need to type again. because our brain could be connected to super chip, so it logging anything that we thinks about. It really has a big volume of data I guess, it makes our memory more durable and fault tolerance, we have backup for everything. At that time I lose enjoyment in writing with keyboard as luddite lose enjoyment in using the new tech to work. I can’t really imagining that at all. For some it is utopia, but I imagine all of that as hell. Some want their depression to be cured by automation of that tools and drug is more efficient. And everyone can be happy easily. It is the fault of my processing thought that could not be erased, so I would like become the subject of experimentation of that tool, and maybe that they can cure my fault in processing data like that, so I could enjoy searching for something again, maybe they could “cure” me so I can enjoy what I previously enjoy again. And basically they are just erasing me. The “me” who writes like this, that really have a deep interested in killing myself gone. It replaced me to be someone who is productive and make everyone happy. The eeyoore in me is losed, it is not recorded in history or the logs in database of my memory, because the system is design to make me eternally happy, and memories like that are obstacles for reaching their key performance indicator to “cure” me. I don’t know who I am anymore, I just happy all the time. This is the thought I haven’t found the “cure” if I don’t kill myself or I am killed by tools like that that could possibly be build in the future. Then I live happily ever after in jannah and I met the wajh of Allah.