I am sick of this world

My greatest flaw is cowardice.
I should have killed myself long ago.
From the age of eleven or twelve i have felt tired. Old and tired, that's what i used to say, and was ridiculed for it, mocked by mental midgets for pretending that my thoughts could have legitimacy at such a young age.
I'm thirty now. I should have killed myself fifteen years ago, and i was too much of a coward to do it. It's not hard. I've had access to buildings tall enough and poisons potent enough (the household variety) every day of my worthless life. I am too scared to do it.
A long time ago, maybe a decade, i realized that the only way i could ever go through with the one necessary act would be by exposing myself to the elements. The only way i could die was by removing my options and still is. I would have to bring myself to a state of weakness profound enough to prevent myself from seeking help and isolate myself from the social mechanism which would keep me alive physically while murdering me as an individual brainwashing me so i become only one more cog in the apparatus. Better to die than be just another wage-slave paying into the system.
Better to die than be worthless in a world that does not value worth. There is no way for me to create a world worth existing in, so what's ahead for me? Another five ten or thirty years in this despicable pile of shit of an ape society, allowing myself to be exploited and trod upon, only to die raped and beaten and torn apart by macho cretins in the back of an alley. Why wait?
I am a coward. I should not give you the satisfaction to choose when and how you kill me. You murder me every second you promote this sick, worthless ape clusterfuck that's so enslaved by its instinctive breeding urge and competitive drives and so willing to delude itself with afterlives that we do nothing, nothing whatsoever to extend our own existences. I cannot survive and it is better to die now than after the span of years you allot me, if i have no chance at immortality anyway, but i am too much a coward to slit my wrists.
I cannot fix this idiotic waste of biomass, i cannot eliminate its moronic behavior. I hate you. I hate all of you almost as much as i hate myself for my weakness and still it's never been enough to get me to perform the one necessary, worthwhile action, to finally end this moronic farce. I cannot kill myself. I cannot drive out to the wilderness and wander off until i sink into the ground. I cannot jump in front of a bus, no matter how many times i imagine it. I cannot take this little kitchen knife and plunge it into my femoral artery and bleed out. I cannot walk up the gangbangers in my old neighbourhood and give them my wallet in exchange for putting a bullet in my brain. I can never awallow the damn bleach. I can never leave the car running long enough in the garage. I can never work up the nerve. I am a coward.

I have a tooth abscess. It's an old root canal operation that i've neglected enough to become infected. Given the depth of the procedure, the abscess is likely to encounter blood vessels fairly quickly as it burrows into my jaw. Some will be venous. The bacteria should spread through my blood and cause systemic infections. Heart, lungs. Maybe outright septicemia. I don't have to do anything. This is my chance to beat my cowardice. Just let it take hold. It will be painful, a full-body necrosis, but i may also be too weak to do anything about it. Bonus. It may make me too weak to call for help. I could finally die. I'm just too much of a coward. I keep telling myself that it may not kill me. It would only weaken me, making the little time i have to live even less dignified. It might only rot away part of my jaw, forcing me to a liquid diet from now on. It might only infect my brain, turning me into a mindless ape like the rest of you, unable to link to thoughts together past "fuck" and "eat". Fates worse than death. Worse, if it doesn't kill me it will put me under the control of the medical establishment. I'd be medicated into submission. I'd get normalized. Lobotomized. I need to die. What if it doesn't kill me.
And that's just cowardice talking again, because no matter all the odds that it won't work, i should take this chance. I should isolate myself, weaken myself, and allow it to kill me. Kill me. And i can't, because i'm a coward, and i'll end up calling the worthless mouthbreather of a dentist and getting cured and it'll be another five years or ten years until i get another chance like this, the universe cutting through the defenses of modern society to remind me that my one purpose, my one chance at independent action, is to die. Kill me.
Kill me. I don't want to feel old and tired any more. I don't want to fight you any more. I hate you, i am your enemy. Just kill me.