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Check out "The Note" at FiercePoet.com

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Written somewhere about this time.  No date to be sure of. To the Dead Poets: I do not know what is going on any more. I feel like I am lost from reality. I have been lost for some time now. I have not felt the excitement and thrill of writing for a while now. I feel so guilty about this fact that it makes me sick inside. For so long I have loved and even enjoyed writing my poetry and now, it just does not thrill me anymore. It just does not provide the same joy and comfort that it used to provide for me. I wish I knew what was going on with my mind currently. It discomforts me very much. This dilemma discourages me when it comes to a lot of things. I do not know what to do any more about a lot of problems that I have to face. I have realized that the worst thing I can do in this world is fake it and pretend that I am having 12000% fun all of the time. I have no reason to have fun anymore. Nothing. I cannot live a lie like this one that I have been living for so long now. I have lived for almost six years now in this lie. I have made it look like everything is a-O.K. For this whole time, it has never been a-O.K. I cannot fool you anymore, any of you. I feel that I have already fooled all of you long enough as is right now. I have tried to learn to appreciate what I have got, everything that I have got in this life so far. I just cannot appreciate all of it though. I have tried everything to appreciate my friends; God knows I have got some of the best friends for whom a guy could ask for in this world. I cannot just appreciate them though. I guess I could say that I have it good; I just do not realize how good I truly do have got it though. God I wish that I did realize how well I have it. Some thoughts might have subsided a long time ago if I had realized how well off I am in this world. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. I have lost the enthusiasm and vigor that a young child possesses. I cannot have fun like I had when I was a young child and enjoy the simple things in life like a young child can. I will not be able to do any of those things again. Too many things, including the thoughts of suicide, have forced me to grow up too quickly. I am too sensitive, to friends, to family, to everyone. I believe that there is good within every person of this whole earth, so much so that it makes me so fucking mad inside when I think about that fact. I look at some of my “true” friends and see who they are and the potential that they hold within them. It makes me nauseous to think about it. The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative me. Why can I not just enjoy life? I do not know! I find myself wishing all the time that I could though. Sometimes everything terrifies me to the point that I can barely function correctly anymore. I wish that I just understood myself sometimes and understood what was going on inside my head. The thoughts of suicide have been my problem. Literally. If they had never started, then I truly believe that I would be fine. I would never have grown up so fast. The thoughts have torn my life apart, torn it apart beyond repair. I truly believe that none of my friends, no matter how “true” they are, can help put my life back together. I cannot do anything to fix what has happened. I also cannot do anything to stop anything else from happening. All that can happen is for everything to get worse and worse. Nothing I can do will change that fact. Nothing. I have to thank the few people who did express concern over the last few months, even years since I first talked about my thoughts of suicide. I imagine that getting along with such an erratic, moody, baby must be extremely hard. As a matter of fact, I know that it must be extremely hard. To my brothers of Theta Xi, there are a few of you whom I truly do love as a friend and brother. I thank you very much the love and support that you few have shown toward me on several occasions. You do not realize how much it helped at the time when you did what you did. It did help a lot though. Trust me. I have no passion for life any more and do not know why. http://www.fiercepoet.com/index.php/36/

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