Here we go again… this happens everytime I stumble upon a new and cleverer blue-box blogging app on my phone. Just like Facebook, Tumblr, and in another life MySpace (remember them?) I get suckered in to posting my life’s dreary little secrets on the internets. And, like most of these so-called “services,” which are nothing more than cleverly disguised attempts at collecting every bit of useless information about your soul, I will probably get bored with it by the end of this post and you may never hear from me again.
But today, dear friend(s), I have a treat for you. Today, I am especially troubled. Today, I am once again contemplating the means to my end. I have gone deep down into my depression once more and have come up with another reason to end my meaningless life. That reason is, like so many other good excuses, based entirely on a lack of something I hate anyway: MONEY.
Yup. I now have even less money than I thought I had. I THOUGHT I had none. Now I have less than none. But that is besides the point. I don’t feel like telling you about my money problems. I don’t have to. I don’t need to. I don’t want to. So I won’t. Instead, I will tell you about all the ways I have considered doing myself in.
The gun is good, according to the great Zordoz. A man with a gun is a dangerous thing. For the warmonger, it empowers. For the weak, it protects. For the utterly pathetic, it provides a means of escape. It also provides a nasty mess on the walls and floor for your poor mother to clean up, so please don’t use it at her house… or at least, not inside her house. The gun is used best at the peak or the trough of one’s sine wave of emotions. When used properly, it can take a life at the height of anxiety or at the pit of despair. At either extreme, the end result is achieved with no chance for a return. Instant gratification.
I had purchased a good length of long rope at one point, for the initial purpose of assisting ascent or descent, to prevent injury. I quickly realized that the same rope would be equally suitable for arresting decent to inflict injury. This method seems a bit harsh, and somewhat complicated. I did however begin practicing my 13-wrap Hangman’s Noose and am getting quite good at it. Now, such a sturdy rope as used properly for climbing does not bind like most utilitarian hardware-store ropes. It also does not stretch. So the biggest question with this method is: How far do I need to drop to snap the neck quickly, without popping my head off? I often fall asleep at night asking myself over and over again.
Perhaps one of the most romantic of all methods is The Great Swan Dive. You often see young maidens, torn by the thoughts of a past lover, jumping from white cliffs onto rocky beaches. I guess it’s a scenic thing. Then there are those who prefer to jump six floors down the atrium at the local shopping mall and smack their skulls against the marble tiles near the Karmel Korn stand outside of the Old Navy store. Equally exotic. Me, I think I’d rather take a spill from a waterfall. That way, you get the best of both worlds: hundreds of horrified tourists, children and adults alike, watching helplessly as your self-absorbed mind meets Mother Nature face-to-face at speeds exceeding most school zone limits. Scar the general public for life while becoming one with the earth. Of course, there’s always the chance that the water will somehow break your fall and possibly turn you into a paraplegic. Hey, at least you get a cool wheelchair.
Slitting my wrists in an overflowing bathtub never really appealed to me. I mean, if it’s overflowing, then the overflow drain must also be plugged. That would be one disgusting bathtub. I really don’t want to go into the afterlife with a microbial infection. Besides, I don’t care how lifeless Natalie Portman looked in Heat. The thought of being rescued by Al Pacino sends shivers down my spine. Still, I guess that’s what the Romans used to do. They really liked having running water. I don’t want to die in a bathtub. If it were my only option, I’d have to be wearing some clothes. And have you ever tried washing blood out of a pair of jeans? Not easy, especially if they’ve been soaking in it.
Tony Hopkins, great whacking bear, and I believe… Elle McPherson. Oh, wait. Death by bear. Saw The Grizzly Man. Can’t do it. Next.
High Speed Auto Accident
Oh wait, can’t. Car needs work. With my luck, I will be rescued by AAA and arrested for stupidity. Good song, though.
On well. Getting tired, off to bed. Any thoughts would be appreciated, possibly.