What sparked my nihilism?
One might wonder: what made this fool into a nihilistic monster? Well, to begin with—religion did. Not in the way you might think, but in the sense that it couldn’t answer my questions without relying on “faith.” And faith was something I could never wrap my head around. How can you believe in something you can’t see, hear, touch, or interact with? You’re just supposed to believe. Like it’s some fucked-up game of Dungeons & Dragons. But I don’t feel like role-playing. That’s why I find comfort in my depression—it’s real. The need for death and eternal rest just makes life feel that much more real.