Hands are Unsteady

Trying to type out words on this pavement, my mind is bleading, my ears are screaming- how much longer until this ends?????
Life seems such a waste, when things are layed out on paper. What difference would it make if I died now or later, accecpting one's death is what life is to be about, but when one has already accecpted death what is there for in life's sweet living?