Click of the Revolver...

Notice: Don't see this as a suicide type entry. The gun, and bullets, and bowing the brains out are just metaphors for depression. My dreams won't allow me to kill myself, and cutting never did shit for me. Only reminded me that I do bleed.

So, let's blow my brains out, and see the pretty entry it creates. Let's start by searching for the gun. We can translate the gun into "My Life". Growing up to a single mother who cared for her child as much as any mother is suppose to care. I don't even know what to say about my father. My mother, and him were together up until I think right before my second birthday. He was a deadbeat who had nothing going for him, and still doesn't. I am my mother's child. Almost everything she is, I am. The way she looks at things, she's anti-social, sarcastic, would do anything she could for the people she loves. I love, and despise that woman. There's so much she doesn't know in my life, not because I don't want to tell her, but because i'm scared she will make the most sense to me out of anybody I know, and it'll change my life, or my dreams. She raised me alone with only a high school diploma. She has been working at a dead end job for about 18 years now, and now i have a younger sister. All growing up as a only child my mom, and me were isolated. We kept to ourselves, and family. That was about it except for school. I always made friends easily at school, that was no problem. It was as you got older, and there were those friends you hung out with out of school that I never had. It wasn't till then did I realize how much my personality conflicted with others. Early in school the teachers, and people started up with the whole ADD, and ADHD rants. I was always the first candidate for that crap. Finally in fifth grade the got my mom to put me on medication for ADHD. Ritalin for so many years. If I use to be a hyperactive kid, it's all gone now. Atop that, a few years after I started on the Ritalin I was put into a class called Study Skills, or some shit. Basically it was a class for children who were lacking in certain areas of study. It was just a step above from the slow classes. I was put in there for behavior originally. Oh yeah, I was a really bad kid in school too. No body told me what to do, and when they did I went out of my way to do the wrong thing next time. Rules didn't apply to me at all. Me getting in trouble never stopped all through school, but back to the classes. I was in them all through school till I dropped out. In there for fucking behavior, and you want to make me take stupid test that I ace so you can say. "You are very intelligent Matthew." I heard it all through school. "So bright.", "You have so much potential." We see where all that intelligence, and potential got me, eh? Twenty with no education, no job, and no future. I got expelled twice throughout school, and i'm sure I racked up about three hundred write ups throughout school too. My record was forty three in one year.

. There were also those teachers, and people who told me. "If you don't do something with your life, you're going to end up as nothing." I went all through school just to prove those fuckers wrong. Now look at me. A fucking drop out, and i'm nothing right now. For the last three years since I dropped out of school my life has been nothing. A constant stand-still, no job, no way to go anywhere, absolutely nothing. I don't even remember the old me anymore. Know why? Because I think i'm finally ready to admit that i'm fucking clinically depressed! Atop that, no one gives a flying fuck! I use to have so many friends, now I have none. And none of those I have give a damn about me being depressed. I feel like just flipping the fuck out on everyone I see. From my friend that once we start hanging out again you don't give a damn about me. You say 'hey' when I come to your house. Talk for hours to him, say just a few words to me, then that's it. I actually use to consider you an amazing friend. What the fuck are you good for now in my life? And another friend. We were always together for two fucking years. I woke up in the morning to you outside my house, I walked into the house to go to sleep after you dropping my off every fucking night, and you just up and decide you want nothing to do with me? I swear my emotions are just people play toys. Sudden realization; if the girl I love, and going to move to cali for does fuck me over... Damn... That might would be the trigger to throw me off the ledge. I always bottle my emotions up because I had no one to hear me out, or I didn't think people wanted to hear it, or I figured I could solve it all on my own. I seriously need help now. I just wish someone would come to help me, How the fuck do I send out an S.O.S to people for emotional help?

There's the gun. And without meaning to I put the bullets in there. The bullets are the major problems in my life. No job, no education, no hope, not knowing what will happen, feeling like no matter what I do it'll all be in vain. We spin that revolver, click, click, click... When I put it to my head, and pull the trigger I get nothing. Just more stress, and a memory to all those problems in my life. I've continued over, and over in my life for the past three years. Just waiting for the bang to sound the end of it all. I'm hoping for gun shot to my head. For the doubt, problems, and depression to just be splatter on the wall. I can clean it up, with all of it out of my head. That bullet i'm waiting for is my dream, and all I can do is hold on to it through thick, and thin...