Wednesday 28 November 2007

a note on suicide

If I were going to do it, it would have to be a shotgun under the chin. Or better yet, a good size heroin and cocaine snowball. I don’t have a problem with the ethics at all.

I think the world of people generally sucks.
The laws of the universe are parasitical and predatory,
the creator had intention but lacked compassion.

People like myself are better off moving on.
I sometimes think I was designed for the next world, not this one.
Something about it makes more sense to me.
This place is retarded.

I have looked and I have tried for 41 years to get what I do here right. I have done my best to rinse some semblance of joy from existence, and I succeeded surprisingly well.

As I get older the options get less, I get wiser and I find I dislike the conditions here all the more. I have decay, senility, obstruction, and the company of myself to look forward to.
I don’t have a problem with suicide.

But while another person who loves me still lives and breathes the air of this world, I would not do it to them.

It wouldnt be hard, wouldnt even be painful.
Just take yourself to that edge and begin to fly.
Higher and higher until this place really doesn’t matter all that much anymore.
Your spirit letting go, and you are gone.

It’s no big deal, I don’t know what all the fuss is about.
Life, death. It is all just happening.

As I finished writing this I knocked over a glass and it smashed.
Funny how things go
.

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