What is this world we live in? Why does it exist? Why do we exist? What is our purpose in life? What is the meaning of life?

So many questions, yet so little answers. No, I'm not one of those philosophical creatures who spends all day brainstorming about what our actual purpose might be. Occasionally though, and I feel I'm not the only one who feels this way, I will have a sudden deep thought as to what will happen when I die. What will happen? I think about how one day I'll just close my eyes, and never wake up. I think about how I'll turn 20, then 30, then 40...then 80, then 90. Who knows if I'll even reach that age? It doesn't matter. Whether or not I do, thinking about old age makes me realize how short a lifetime is. How quickly I'll become old and unable to move on my own. That's terrifying to me. I don't care what others say.

That's terrifying.

When those thoughts arise, I wonder:

If I died at this moment, would I be satisfied?

The answer is always no. Because I'm trash. I'm incapable of doing things on my own. I'm a lowlife who doesn't understand how to even pack my own lunch. I have to question everything just to make sure I do things right. "Do you turn it like this? Where does the screwdriver go? Is this where you put the CD?"

It doesn't help that everyone around me gets so annoyed by my questions.

When these thoughts come about, I always become very determined to fix my life. To set things straight. Make things better. Not for my mother's sake. Not for my father's sake. Not for the world's sake. But for my sake. Because if I don't try to turn my life around, I know that I will end up like those homeless bums I'm always seeing in the streets. That's not what I aspire to become. But that's where I always see myself going in the future.

I find myself failing all my classes back in high school. I find myself wanting to pass all my grades, but acting against my decision. I find myself wondering if I'll even be able to graduate high school, because I keep failing my classes. I find myself telling my reflection on the mirror that college is the least of my worries. I'll be glad if I don't end up dropping out. Here in the midst of finals and my failing grades, instead of studying and working hard to raise them and make my own life easier for me, I find myself playing games on my computer and getting too attached to the characters. 

Why am I like this? Why have I been created like this? If I was born to a different family, would I have been different? Would I have acted differently? Would I still be failing all my classes? Would I still be afraid that I might actually end up like a homeless junkie? I'm afraid the answer I find to these questions is always a yes answer. Because, if I'm like this now, what makes me think I'll act any different in a better setting? If I really thought that I would be a nice, straight A student with a bright future ahead of me, boy would that make me dumber than I already am.

For some reason, wherever I go, I'm  always surrounded by smart kids. Good kids. Kids who aren't failing their classes. I see those kids and I wonder, why am I like this? Why am I so lazy? Why am I so reluctant to make my own life better?

It that the answer is always I don't know. And because of that, no matter how afraid of death I am, many times I think of just grabbing a knife and ending it all. Cutting my wrist, slitting my throat, stabbing myself. Anything to end the suffering. What do I do?

What do I do?