The world seen through the eyes of an unclean soul

Sitting, watching cars drive by I'm left wondering of what unspeakable acts the passengers of that car have committed, if any.
I don't mean rape or murder, more along the lines of self loathing and self harm. Looking into a mirror seeing the thought of hatred in myself I think of how many others think as I do. How many times they have thought of ending it by whatever manner seems best for them at the time. The things that seem to much to bear, that loneliness we feel overwhelming like the stench of old garbage, filling your lungs and stomach making you dry heave. That corrosive mind set that seems to infect everything you touch.
Control over those thoughts are futile at times. The breakdown of self like decaying of matter, but it's of ourselves, the soul which feels like dying.
I find myself looking for something, anything to hold on to. A smile from a stranger, the way the wind feels against my face as I walk on the beach, the way it feels to drink a nice cold glass of water after a hot day. Small, seemingly unimportant thoughts swirl like cigarette smoke after a long drag. That is my existence. Carbon copy days, restless nights and self hatred. My own path to self destruction. Don't follow me here is not a great place to be. Though it is in my path, I hope that at the end of it there is some semblance of light. A new beginning of sorts. If I could only push passed the thought of ending it now so I can see where this rabbit hole leads...