The letter I never sent (also 'Third Level of Re-Education')

yes ur right it is going to be hard for me. i guess i dont get why not talking to me or replying to me when i sms or try to get in contact at all will help you get better, but to each his/her own i guess. Im not gonna lie, i really miss how things used to be and how things have changed and how much its been killing me every single day since this all started. Yep thats probably pretty selfish of me but since u dont seem to want to talk to me about things i guess it wont matter much anyway.

The coldness i get atm, that only I seem to be getting, nothing hurts more. Nothing. The fact that you sometimes try and fake it makes it even MORE pitiful and almost patronising for me.

Its a monster i cant fight. Its not fair that it should have the influence over you that i can never have. Thats not fair. Why cant you fight it?! Why cant ANYONE fight the fucking thing!?

I MISS you. I know its not ur fault, and in all honesty i dont blame you for any of it. Its my karma that i should fall in love with you right now wen ur at this stage of ur life. But me understanding WHY and understanding its not ur fault dosent change the fact that its really killing me.


I know wat u mean about how u worry about her, cause its exactly how i worry about you. And u not talkin to me bah fuck i dont even know wat im talking bout. I need to hear everything; and at the same time i wish that id never heard any of it.

You know that im not going to send this. Im just writing it to get all down; all thats been bottled up and ready to explode out of my chest. I know whats going to happen, and il tell you right now. Im going to put this on the blog, and instead send you a pissy little msg telling you how il alway be there for you and how you go ahead and do ur thing and il be there to catch you etc. and i know that ul coldly turn it aside and not reply to it and leave me hanging AGAIN like you ALWAYS do and il get just a little more angst-ey until i end up writing ANOTHER letter like this and hide it again until we get to a point that the monster takes over and you either eject me from ur life or eject ur own life altogether. Either way its a lose-lose situation for me and for you.

So why dont i send this msg? instead of the piss-weak ones i always send you, saying stuff i dont belive? Because you have no rock in ur life, and ur so fragile. Im the only thing you got that still has its head above the water. And if i go ul go for sure. And my stupid pride isnt worth as much as keeping you safe. Id rather forever be known by everyone (even you) as whipped and weak as long as i keep you from thinking theres no chance.

I dont even know if thats the case; and u know what? Ul get tired of my piss-poor attempts to 'be there' and ul drift furthur away from me until the point where you just leave me and never come back and then il be like you. Just another broken heart youv left.

Id tell you...no i wouldnt. I wouldnt tell you if i was down; otherwise id be sending you this. I have to stay strong. Im Winston, im the last man. If i go down; everyone goes down. I wont let that happen. Il let you leave me before i let that go. Before i let that demon infest my mind as well, that fucking depression creature. I wont get it, no blight-houses for me.

So yeah fine, grow that little bit more distant from me. It was only a matter of time. You never stand to be close to me, not the way i am. Not when i cant 'understand' you. You might not even know it now, but you will. And when you leave me and fall deeper into that hole il walk away and accidently kick the ladder, i can see it now. I go and youv lost all chance of getting out; because im the last man in ur life.

He ponders the question "how to make better a world where evil brings profit and virtue none at all?". You dont be virtuous for profit. I understand that now. I finally understand what it is to be 'good'.

I am willingly giving up the source of my happiness, pleasure, pain and inspiration so that others may enjoy it after me. So that the source itself can continue to exist, because its worth it. You.

Youl end up hating me by the end. But il save you, il save you reguardless. Ur lucky.

If depression was represented in a person; I would kill it slowly and painfully. I would watch as it bled to death, or burnt it slowly, or some form of ridiculous torture. I would enjoy every second of it, and so would depression. Everyone would be happy.

I would make it slow for all the pain it has indirectly caused me for existing, for the pain it has caused others, for acting like a kamazie bomber (killing the body it inhabits. I would kill it slowly like it slowly kills the people i love.

Id kill it slowly for having the audacity to ruin my life when all its doing is ruining its own. Id kill it slowly for causing me frustration to the point where I walk around in circles till my feet hurt, causing me so much fear I cant sleep, causing me so much anguish that I turn off all senses in my mind just to cope.

Id kill it extra slowly for how its extra slowly killing her. Id whisper in its ear is it was going. Id humiliate it, and give it no honor in its going. Id make it watch, id constantly degrade and destroy its mind. In short, id give it what it wants.

It wants it so bad?! Il give it to it. Il give it that filthy, bloody, anguished, lonely, loveless, gritty, faceless, dishonourable, degrading, useless death that it so craves for.

And when its dead id spit on its corpse, just for trying to miss with me. For trying to take me down. For taking down people better then me. For looking at me with cold eyes and lying. For speaking to me with a cold voice and not caring. For taking every ounce of love, passion, vitality, humor, culture and care that I had to give and just absorbing it.

For not giving me what I deserve. For what I deserve.

I would accept no payment; not for killing something the world needs dead so badly. I would walk out of the room, blood staining my clothes, weapon over shoulder, panting and heaving with a stoic expression on my face and shake my head at payment. Id do this one for free.

I wouldnt be able to live in a world without depression after that; not in the cold blooded way in which i acted. I am also a product of depression; the hate and anger i have to it welled inside me like cancer in a second-hand smoke patient.

There would be no place for me in the better world i would have created, but i would die happy knowing i saved humanity. I would die happy knowing i beat something that wanted to be beaten, and yet never gave into its demands. I would die happy knowing that the one thing that i cannot hope to understand died by my bare hands.

I would relish in that fact. I hate it so much.