Unmixing words

Some people kill themselves all at once, but a lot of people just kill themselves a little bit more each day.

Maybe for themselves but maybe actually for the benefit of others.  Either way, self-death is better chewed then swallowed.

Your life, your dreams, your desires, are not more interesting than mine but given that they actually exist it's easier for me to focus on them.

And his, and hers, all of them.  Friends, family, co-workers - we do them the little good we can by offering our time because we know the answers they are looking for.  They're asking questions you asked decades ago, questions you answered years ago, questions you grew tired of right before they asked, questions you just can't answer anymore.

But my life, my dreams, my desires, are my secret.  I have to keep them so secret.

Desires of the flesh, I wish. I could slice open a hundred different fleshes and find only one person, the same person, each time. Lonely, tired, unheard, afraid, she has loved me for many years.  When she is not these things she does not love me, but when she is these things she finds me.

But all I could bring from the armory was more armour.  If I gave you ammunition you would shoot me down, and like I said I would rather chew on self-death first.