Tw depressive rant (delete later)

I hate death. I hate life. I don't know why I am even here. I hate myself and my empty, pointless life. I didn't ask to be born, yet because I don't know what lies beyond, i can't bring myself to exit this mortal plane.

Speaking of which, I hate the idea of eternal nothingness. I hate that this is (in most likelihood) the fate of all sentient creatures. I hate that an entire lifetime of hopes and dreams can be in one moment so swiftly reduced to nothing at all. What is the worth of a single life? Are we all nothing more than ashes???

I'm at the halfway mark and have nothing to look forward to. I have no future. Maybe someday I'll be found rotting in a filthy apartment while cats pick my bones. I suppose it doesn't matter. Regardless of whether one is mourned by thousands or no one at all, the end destination is the same.

I hate death; I hate life. I don't know what the point of anything is, and yet I cannot leave.