Why shouldn't I kill myself right now?

Why am I still alive?

Or as I asked myself many months ago; why do I keep on living?

I've been through this cycle enough times already. The cycle of fear and hope which both sum up to illusion/delusion. So, why am I still alive? I know how this movie ends. I'm tired of watching it. I'm tired of being a spectator too. In my own life.

I want to see what real life looks like. The only thing that seems real in life right now is death. So, I want to see death.

Death changed my life when my dad died. It became the thing that gave life meaning. Or showed me that it's meaningless. Same thing. Then I went back into my coma where I fooled myself into believing that life means family, career, money, sex, friends, fun, service, compassion, ... Blah, blah, blah.

I've been disabused of those notions pretty thoroughly in the last few years. Especially over the last few months. Now, life has lost most, if not all, illusions that gave it meaning. But I have not arrived at the core yet. I don't yet really know the meaninglessness of it. I still go into this narcotized state where I think this gain or that loss means something about life. And I still don't know death.

I want to know death.