TBH, this pretty much reflects my entire attitude at the moment towards the world, life and all other humans.
A recent lying awake thought. Better to die peacefully in your sleep - but get cheated out of the final experience? Or die in absolute conscious agony - and get your money's worth on the way out?
I often apologize for being wrong or awkward. Lately I've been contemplating swimming the Atlantic - with a rock tied around my neck. It may prove how very motivated I am right now to make it to the other side.
This is the hell that never ends. It just goes on and on, my friends. Some mouses - started running it not knowing what it was. But we'll continue running it - forever, just because ...
On Sunday, I lost my last great-aunt ... and my last living connection to a world long since forgotten. No advancements in technology can preserve our stories - if nobody is around that remembers them.
Once upon a time, I was not so dark and pessimistic. The world was an amazing wonder. Every sunrise was an ode to joy. And I saw each day as a glass half-full of chocolate milk possibilities. Then I turned five.
Two cats. A dog. Work. My existence. Not half-full. Nor half-empty. Just. Shattered. Glass. To tread over. And over. And over again. Smearing bloody breadcrumbs. Of torture. Of misery. But the only sign. I was here.
My niece pushes her tiny dog around in a stroller. But to clarify. She does not keep any humans on a leash. That I know of. Well. I guess it explains the chokers. And purple and silver hair. Nope. Not going there.
I am feeling the stress of a Universe pushing me to the edge of what I can endure. And I am not doing well. I would pay any price - to find myself in a reality where I was not simply an object of amusement.
My life's regret? Not taking advantage of those rites of passage that would have afforded the opportunity to kill as many brain cells as possible. Because I'd certainly be in a much happier place now.
If I could live my life over again? I wouldn't.
To clarify. Not recently. But I've had "those" thoughts. And known plenty of people that acted on them. The sad part is how obvious the signals usually were. But that is us. Too blind. Too busy. Or too not our problem.
I lived with this person for a year. She attempted suicide while I was at work. I left. Got fired. And when I got there and reached for her ... she stabbed me. Paramedics arrived and took us both. She lived. Me? Not so much.
(a) What is suicide? A friend at work one day. Vomited blood. Collapsed. Lived for a few weeks in hospice. Never regained consciousness. He had cancer. But refused treatment. And didn't tell anyone. Is that natural causes?
Comic from my play. Was nearby to witness the response to a school shooting. Then learned. A victim? Neighbor. The gunman? Friend to a family member. There when it happened. Society never demands answers when it's culpable. Only "closure".
Age 17. One choice? A chain-reaction of disasters. That I am still paying for. And probably will as long as I draw breath. Change it? For better or worse, I do not know. It's not about her. But it's made all the difference.
Seems as good of a wish as any for today. Provided I can find that many candles.
I've been working 14+ hour days, including weekends, the last 5 months. Another reorg. More expectations. Unrealistic deadlines. Yay! The transition to the post-Covid world. Out there is a straw ... with my name on it.
First. I clearly missed my calling - inspirational artwork. Second. I know the difference between a "drinky" cow and a "nummy" cow. Sadly, the test audience (my dog) didn't. So. Artistic license. For the sake of "humor".
I thought I had completed this phase of development back in my 20s. But. Apparently. You can regress. Maybe we can develop a cure. Or vaccine. Because. Life is so much easier without the burden of "living".