structure

Lately, I've been consumed by this feeling. There's no guarantee that stories have happy endings. Actually, life doesn't even have a structure. I'm done. Life was never interesting, fun, or anything. I was just born into this world, that's it. Probably, things will be terrible. And then I'll die. The idea that life has inherent value is just something we all desperately agreed on to survive. Every time I try to kill myself, this feeling that I should really live wells up. What the hell is driving that? Is it something meaningful? Something profound? No. Just a biological survival instinct. That's all it is. I realized that death isn't as tragic as I always thought. My death will be insignificant, uninteresting, and forgotten.