I have to wonder, just how often do most people think about dying? I guess it varies depending on a person’s age and infinite combinations of life situations. An 85 year old woman with cancer probably thinks about it more often than your average 31 year old man with no obvious health issues. But I suppose that means I’m not your average 31 year old man.

I think about it a lot. Like, a lot. I wonder how I’ll die, how it will feel, who (if anyone) will be near me. And I always give lots of thought about the idea of taking my own life. Again, this is no suicide note or anything, I’m just saying it’s a thing that happens, and it’s something I think about. I like to be in control of things in my own life, and frankly, I would like to be in control of my own death as well. I think that is my right.

How would I do it? Hmm. I guess you have your standards; cutting, hanging, and the good ol’ “self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head”. I can never imagine me sitting in a bathtub cutting my own arms, legs or throat and just waiting to bleed out. I think that would induce so much panic and anxiety. It just doesn’t seem pleasant at all. Hanging is not my style at all, I would surely just fall on the floor with god knows what tied around my neck and sprain my ankle or hurt my back. Fuck that. And the gun thing? I don’t know. It’s relatively simple and quick, with a romantic air of violence to it. But there are always those stories about the people that tried that and lived through it, only to endure more suffering in life. Not to mention they end up looking like an asshole for not even being able to kill themselves properly. Plus, guns are expensive right? Money is a huge contributor to most suicides, so adding to the cost is just silly.

I would want something that happens fast, and leaves little or no chance of accidental survival. Something free of monetary cost. I’ve also never wanted any kind of bullshit funeral for phony people to come to and pretend that they ever liked or understood me. So whatever it is shouldn’t leave much behind for any kind of viewing or debate about what to do with the body. What would do that? I know, a bomb! Duh, who the fuck has a bomb? Not me. Jumping out of a plane or off a huge building? Ehh, too involved. Oooohh, I think I know.

Whenever I’m waiting for the R2, or at the park near the Norwood train station, those super fast Acela/Amtrak trains fly by at up to 150 mph, and I just always think “Wow, what if someone was standing right there?”. What must it feel like to be the man standing there, knowing that train is coming. Feeling the end of everything bear down on you, creeping closer by the second as the ground vibrates harder and harder. Surely your jaw and fists would be clenched harder than ever before. Your heart racing. What an inconceivable rush that must be. By the time that train is close enough to notice, you surely wouldn’t have time to even carry out whatever final thoughts your brain would initiate. And all of a sudden, gone. No pain, no stress. No more fights, no more threats, no more bills to pay, no more people to disappoint. And in this case, I would imagine no body left behind. It seems so scary and violent, but at the same time, so very simple and liberating.

How much of your daily life can be described as “simple and liberating”? For me, about 0.0% of it. There’s not a single fucking moment that goes by that feels anything like simple and/or liberating in any way. I can’t seem to make a single move without it having some strings or a price tag attached to it. I want to do “the right thing”, but there is no such thing. What’s right in one direction, causes wrong in the other direction. The perfect balance doesn’t exist. Not for me anyway, and it makes life seem unbearable most of the time.