I've never been good at living. I've never been good at doing like everyone... working a normal 40 hours a week, saving for my retirement and having my little routine day after day. To me, life is like walking in a constant snow storm, the muscles of my body are so tired, that I have trouble getting out of my bed in the morning. I often wish I could just lie down without being stressed of what tomorrow may hold.
There was a stranger in town not long ago... A man who seemed at peace, and unlike any other human I have seen in the past, he was holding a mysterious feeling inside his heart. Nothing could burden this man. People were harassing him for nothing, surely because of his odd attitude or his unfading smile...
Today I read in the local journal that this man was found dead in his house, likely a suicide. I now know that the feeling he was holding in his heart, was nothing but the peace he finally deserved after a long fight against life.
Is it wrong to feel at peace before choosing to fade away for ourselves? Is it wrong to not believe that this ''god'' should be the only one to decide when we go away? Or was this unease feeling to choose this decision, was only to make us suffer more.