How come some people have the courage to do what is right and kill their whole family and themselves but I don't? I know with an overwhelming sense of conviction that my existence is a mistake and I need to be eliminated and yet I am a fucking chicken that would rather continue to live even if it's nothing but misery, burden, and problems. Nobody can benefit from my existence and every day it continues I will sink more people with me even though I don't want to. I mean, yes, I can console myself that I have kept the company of people who are damned anyways so no innocents are getting hurt. Yet I strongly desire to move on from this cursed realm and be in the presence of what is pure and worthy of love. Yet I know I'm the untermensch, the subhuman, who can only corrupt what he loves. This is a horrible predicament and I could only do one truly just and great thing with my life and that's by ending it and maybe taking a few other untermensch with me. All my life is mental torture over what I am and I have never at any point in my life bought into any of the fake solutions that would make me further a mockery of myself. What is the solution to the untermensch problem? I have a body and a mind not worthy of inhabitance. It would be great if my awareness could be drawn out and leave these things behind as an automaton that runs it course, crashing and burning, but here I am at the back of my mind seated and having to endure this horrible tragedy to its inevitable conclusion. I can only win by reaching that conclusion on my own, earlier, and carrying it out. The carrying it out part is not presently in my capacity…
…and so with that I ask you, what special attribute is it, that allows a man to end himself? What is it that I lack which all the great men who took their lives had? Why can I not be like them and fucking kill myself?