The Shortest Story Cuts the Deepest

Death is all I dream of now. The lust I have for it. No, I don't have any sick sort of mind to think these things. No. All it is, is that I'm fucking sick of trying in this life. These days, waking up feels like such a struggle and breathing feels like a curse. I wish nothing else but to be sleeping forever and never have to face the cruel world ever again. I hate feeling this way but it seems so impossible to control, even thought I know, deep down that I can control it. I need to break free of these chains that hold me down. I need to break free of these thoughts repeating in my head. I need to free myself from myself, if that makes any sense what so ever. I need to breathe in the air like it's a good thing not an evil spirit making me live this hell. I need to free the person inside of me telling me to be happy and grateful for what I have. I need to free the hatred I have inside of me. I need to free myself of this rotten, horrid and unforgiving dystopia I am currently living in...