The worst form of suicidefuel is having things around you mature over long periods of time and then suddenly realising how far they've gotten while you've been stuck up shit creek without a paddle. This can be looking at the social media of your former peers (them getting jobs and having kids while you rot in loneliness, failing to advance in life because of your genetics) or simply looking at the date on your computer (we are closer to the year 2030 right now than we are to the year 2000). Shit is bad and time passing can only ever make it worse, time just keeps on moving as well. This is Hell.
The worst form of suicidefuel that is based around looking at things mature over long periods of time is trees. Specifically, trees that you helped plant a decade ago or remember being around when they were seedlings. There is an orange tree in my backyard I remember planting with my mother and brother, it's been a decade since it was planted and the tree has gone from a seedling to a decently-sized plant with branches growing out to the side in all directions and a bunch of fruit either on its branches or on the ground under them. The orange tree was originally planted because the neighbour's cats kept pissing in our yard and apparently cats hate citrus.
During that ten years the orange tree has been growing, enjoying the sunlight, taking in water and producing lots of fruit. It has a healthy dark green colour and its leaves gently bob in the breeze. What's happened to me in the past ten years? I only sunk deeper into the depths of suffering following puberty and my subsequent inceldom. My life has gotten steadily less enjoyable in the years since that tree was planted.
I wish I could live a life like that tree does instead of the life I have to live.
The worst form of suicidefuel that is based around looking at things mature over long periods of time is trees. Specifically, trees that you helped plant a decade ago or remember being around when they were seedlings. There is an orange tree in my backyard I remember planting with my mother and brother, it's been a decade since it was planted and the tree has gone from a seedling to a decently-sized plant with branches growing out to the side in all directions and a bunch of fruit either on its branches or on the ground under them. The orange tree was originally planted because the neighbour's cats kept pissing in our yard and apparently cats hate citrus.
During that ten years the orange tree has been growing, enjoying the sunlight, taking in water and producing lots of fruit. It has a healthy dark green colour and its leaves gently bob in the breeze. What's happened to me in the past ten years? I only sunk deeper into the depths of suffering following puberty and my subsequent inceldom. My life has gotten steadily less enjoyable in the years since that tree was planted.
I wish I could live a life like that tree does instead of the life I have to live.
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