I’ve lost my job. I’ve lost my relationship. I don’t have much left in life. So, I think it’s a good idea to end my life. I’d say I want to kill myself, but that sounds unnecessarily violent. Am I depressed? Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t want to spend good money on consulting a therapist, either. Do I have a sad life? Not really. I have been happier, for sure. I used to have someone to share my happiness with. I used to have someone to depend on, to be happy (because I couldn’t be happy on my own). It’s all gone now. It’s amazing how you can make all these promises in the heat of the moment, and suddenly wake up one day to find yourself alone and miserable. Given the choice between self-preservation and keeping a promise, some people choose self-preservation. And, there’s nothing wrong with that.
I’m just a little bored of life. I don’t feel optimistic about the possibility of fun, happiness, peace, or love in the near future. That’s how relationships work. When you hit a saturation point, and decide there’s nothing interesting or stimulating about it, you break it off. I’ve essentially decided to dump myself.
What about friends? Yes, I do have some friends. Some people who give a fuck about me; who will shed a tear if I die. Fuckers will probably laugh about it, but that’s what I’d do too. I will be fondly remembered. I know that much. Have I told anyone about wanting to kill myself? Not on my life. Either they’ll try to talk me out of it, or make fun of me and call me a pussy. Neither of those will encourage me and give me the motivation I need to off myself.
It might sound absurd, but suicide requires a lot of motivation. It’s not an easy task. In fact, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever wanted to do in life. Because, you know, after that there will be no life (hopefully). Unfortunately, suicide isn’t something someone can force you to do. If someone told me things like “Why don’t you go die? I don’t care. Go kill yourself. You’re a worthless piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to live” I would get pissed off and show them how I will not die, I am not worthless, and I will not let someone else decide the value of my life. So, the only person who can motivate me, persuade me, and convince me about ending my life is me. And, I’m feeling a little lazy right now, so I don’t really want to do all of that.
I’m not a masochist. I do not enjoy pain. And, most methods of suicide involve self-inflicted pain. When life is being a pain the in ass, suicide shouldn’t be sodomy. I’m sitting with my legs on a table that has two kitchen knives just lying around. Kitchen knives aren’t great for stabbing. I can cut my jugular, or slit a wrist or two. But, that will cause pain. IF I can’t handle stubbing my toe against the chair, I definitely can’t handle slicing my nerves. I would be all nervous, and probably end up hurting myself. Suicide isn’t about hurting yourself. It’s about killing yourself.
There’s also the part about making a mess. A good clean suicide is a myth. Maybe not if I take sleeping pills. But, I’m bad at math, so if I miscalculate, I might just end up taking a really long nap. Naps aren’t bad, don’t get me wrong. But, if I was getting enough sleep, half my problems wouldn’t exist. I can’t sleep with myself. No wonder nobody wants to sleep with me.
I’m also a really nice person. I don’t want to burden others with the responsibility of my last rites. It costs a lot of money, too. If I can’t afford a therapist, I definitely can’t afford a cremation; especially my own. So, what’s the best method of suicide that doesn’t involve violence, sharp objects, prescription pills, accomplices, fans, ropes, vehicles, tall buildings, or pain?
Life. Living life is the best suicide. Every day that passes, is one less day to live. Why fuck with the natural countdown? There is only death at the end of life. There is no chance of survival. This way, nobody knows I killed myself. I will take this secret to my grave. The decisions I took, the people I pursued, the hobbies and vices I chose – at least one of them (if not all) will kill me one day.
It doesn’t make me happy. This means more people will leave me. I will lose money, respect, love, and a whole lot of other stuff. But, I will also gain some. What goes around comes around. When I lose my life, I’ll know for a fact that I have nothing more to lose or gain. I did not choose this life. It was given to me by someone else. So, I will let someone or something else take it away from me. I’m going to be lazy about suicide. You should try it sometime. You might like it. If you don’t, you’ll get used to it.