Useless

i'vee always known  that i could never let death win. I'd kill myself before it gets to me. No one is allowed the privilege to take away my life except me. I find an odd sort of satisfaction in cowering in a corner in  my 30s with a pistol, no husband, no kids, and blowing up my brains, not being found for days. i have such intense hatred for everyone around me. i'm kicking wrapped inside a plastic bag attached to weights, drowning. i can swim very well, but you'll never know. because i never had the chance, never had the freedom, the opportunity to spread out my wings and show you how long my arms stretch. and i never will.
but im scared. i domt think i want to die before i complete my list of achievements. but it doesnt matte anyhow because i'll never be able to reach that level of success. i've been rejected by society always, how could i ever make it big? i'd have talent but never enough and never at the right place or time. i think id venture out to say that im not a particularly lucky person. maybe i should stop hanging out with pussies eh haha.
i never get what i want. i try so hard. i dont think im cut out for a happy life and im done with pain. i've sruggled too much. with abusive father, lack of a social circle, phobia of speaking out, no person who'd give a shit about me and my all around knack for recklessness. i dont think i can survive anymore. i've fought so much. i can't do this.

i can't.
sorry.