Round. Cylindrical. I could see the grooves spiraling into the darkness. Down and down.
I squeezed the trigger. Nothing happens. Just like the last time. And the 100 times before it. It didn't work. I've tried.
A simple thing really. A stretched out spring. A broken connection. Minor things that I could repair. Then bang. The end would be sweet. Sweet relief from myself. Freedom from the world that no longer desires me. Freedom.
Click. Nothing happens.
I could try this a thousand times and nothing would change.
Click.
There are other ways. Messy, brutal. Nothing quick. Nothing quiet.
My long term desire have come to fruition. I stopped caring about my health and am slowly dying.
Click.
The tragedy is that it won't happen fast enough.
Tragedy.
That is my life.
Click.
Some get a comedy, some get happiness, some get satisfaction.
I get the emptiness. I get the loneliness. The desire to belong without ever letting anyone actually know me. I'm too good at goodbyes. I never say them. I just disappear.
Click.
There's no leaving except this way now.
Click.
Click.
Click.