Damned Kill Me EE

Damned Kill Me EE

Damned Kill Me EE >> https://urllie.com/2sVIT7

That makes no scene,you mean to tell me you can only die it you are in pain cause be deeases. Thats hog wash. If life was so great then why god allowed congress and government to kill indigenous people for their own land? Where was he when those people was being kill. Where was he when i work extra ordinary hard to improve my life and situation 37 yr and he allowed govrnment to when over other.. congress and government is wrong doers but you dont stop them,? You say suiecide and sin is bad, well i didnt see being good didnt do anything either.It said, jesus die for your sin, is not trust. He wss murdered by the same rules they call government. Jesus die for your sins but people are still siffering from government he allow them to cause harm to everyone anf sufffering.If jesus die for your sins and your are still suffering then he die for nothing.But here they love to say ending one self is a coward, well i would rather be a coward , then a fool for other including government to cause you pain suffering, and being forced into dependency bythem. So living life in suffering and struggle and lack is good thing? I say noway. If i end it, what would i lose, all the thing god, congress and government denied me from. So i can pray and nothing chang. If ending it is crazy or a coward, staying here ti allow it is a infinitive times and infinitive harmacidal. Allowing other to harn you that god is not stopping.

Hi Debra, Feel exactly the same ,a Christian a long time, Evangelist and fully serving God in church and mercy ministry but i hate living and suffer with horrendous depression every day FOR 5 YEARS four suicide attempts among that period. I beg God to kill me and if he does not soon I will do it, I think it is cruel for God to let me EXIST like this really really cruel no healing in sight, So I fully understand all the bloggers in despair death is the only way for peace .

I understand your pain.All that I really asked God to help me with was to find a woman to love.For most of my life, women would not even speak to me . . . let alone anything more.I was an upright young Christian man, not the sort of sociopathic scumbag who made girls tingle.Now I am older. I am still alone. My prayer has changed from someone to love to please kill me, because I cannot bear this empty life.Hope evaporated decades ago. Please God, please kill me.

Reading their little blurb, I noticed one striking thing. They never refer to it as waste. They say it is repulsive and can kill but not how. The reason I find that important is that some lunatic and his followers may find it and interpret the words to mean there is some horrible doomsday machine or other weapon buried there. Maybe I am just thinking too much. But who knows.

It is one of his favourites words, after all: contradictions. It is one of the many reasons (others being his lyricism, rapping skills, performances etc.) why, at 30, the Compton native is already being considered by many as one of the greatest rappers of all time.

TRUE! --nervous --very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am;but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened mysenses --not destroyed --not dulled them. Above all was the sense ofhearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. Iheard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observehow healthily --how calmly I can tell you the whole story. It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; butonce conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none.Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wrongedme. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. Ithink it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture--a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, myblood ran cold; and so by degrees --very gradually --I made up my mindto take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eyeforever. Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing.But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely Iproceeded --with what caution --with what foresight --with whatdissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man thanduring the whole week before I killed him. And every night, aboutmidnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it --oh so gently!And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I putin a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone out, andthen I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see howcunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly --very, very slowly, sothat I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour toplace my whole head within the opening so far that I could see himas he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise asthis, And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lanterncautiously-oh, so cautiously --cautiously (for the hinges creaked) --Iundid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vultureeye. And this I did for seven long nights --every night just atmidnight --but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossibleto do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but hisEvil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly intothe chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in ahearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you seehe would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect thatevery night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept. Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious inopening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than didmine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers--of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph.To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, andhe not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckledat the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bedsuddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back --but no.His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for theshutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so Iknew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushingit on steadily, steadily. I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumbslipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed,crying out --"Who's there?" I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did notmove a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He wasstill sitting up in the bed listening; --just as I have done, nightafter night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall. Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan ofmortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief --oh, no! --itwas the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul whenovercharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just atmidnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my ownbosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors thatdistracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, andpitied him, although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had beenlying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned inthe bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had beentrying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying tohimself --"It is nothing but the wind in the chimney --it is only amouse crossing the floor," or "It is merely a cricket which has made asingle chirp." Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with thesesuppositions: but he had found all in vain. All in vain; becauseDeath, in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow beforehim, and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence ofthe unperceived shadow that caused him to feel --although he neithersaw nor heard --to feel the presence of my head within the room. When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing himlie down, I resolved to open a little --a very, very little crevice inthe lantern. So I opened it --you cannot imagine how stealthily,stealthily --until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of thespider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye. It was open --wide, wide open --and I grew furious as I gazed uponit. I saw it with perfect distinctness --all a dull blue, with ahideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but Icould see nothing else of the old man's face or person: for I haddirected the ray as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot. And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is butover-acuteness of the sense? --now, I say, there came to my ears alow, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped incotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the oldman's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulatesthe soldier into courage. But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. Iheld the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain theray upon the eve. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heartincreased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder everyinstant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grewlouder, I say, louder every moment! --do you mark me well I havetold you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of thenight, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noiseas this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minuteslonger I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder,louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seizedme --the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour hadcome! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into theroom. He shrieked once --once only. In an instant I dragged him to thefloor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to findthe deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on witha muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not beheard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. Iremoved the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stonedead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there manyminutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eve wouldtrouble me no more. If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when Idescribe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of thebody. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. Firstof all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms andthe legs. I then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber,and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boardsso cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye --not even his --couldhave detected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out --nostain of any kind --no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary forthat. A tub had caught all --ha! ha! When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o'clock--still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came aknocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a lightheart, --for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, whointroduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of thepolice. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the night;suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodgedat the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed tosearch the premises. I smiled, --for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemenwelcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, Imentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all overthe house. I bade them search --search well. I led them, at length, tohis chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. Inthe enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, anddesired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, inthe wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon thevery spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim. The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I wassingularly at ease. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, theychatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself gettingpale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing inmy ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became moredistinct: --It continued and became more distinct: I talked morefreely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gaineddefiniteness --until, at length, I found that the noise was not withinmy ears. No doubt I now grew very pale; --but I talked more fluently, andwith a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased --and what could Ido? It was a low, dull, quick sound --much such a sound as a watchmakes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath --and yet theofficers heard it not. I talked more quickly --more vehemently; butthe noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in ahigh key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadilyincreased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and frowith heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of themen --but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? Ifoamed --I raved --I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had beensitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over alland continually increased. It grew louder --louder --louder! And stillthe men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heardnot? Almighty God! --no, no! They heard! --they suspected! --theyknew! --they were making a mockery of my horror!-this I thought, andthis I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything wasmore tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocriticalsmiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now --again!--hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!--tear up the planks! here, here! --It is the beating of his hideousheart!" -THE END- 2b1af7f3a8