You know that uforic feeling you get when you accept that nothing will very be right in life. Its that acceptance that even if you blew you head off it would not matter. I think its similar to the uforic feeling people supposedly get before they end it all. My life is probably nowhere near as bad as other peoples so that makes me weak, selfish, and pathetic as well as stupid. I will always be alone. Live alone, die alone, and I don’t even have fleas to morn me. Its enough to make me laugh. The cuts sting but I just don’t care. Some times I want to cut the skin off my face. I wonder what I would look like then. I wonder what I would look like if I shot my self in the head from different directions. Would I have the time to register the uncomfortable bang in my ear. I wonder what it would feel like. If I were to actually do any thing it would take weeks for any one to know. They would have to recarpet my apartment. I would never drown my self. Its just to iffy. But if I did, it would make clean up so much easier for them. I think it might even cut down on the smell to some extent, but having never drown my self and let my body sit for a couple of weeks I don’t know for sure.

Yesterday I watch the scene in BSG were Dualla shoots her self over and over and over. Draw head bang draw head bang draw head bang draw head bang. I watched it for like 30 minutes. It felt like getting punched in the gut. I want to be her right then. No hesetation. Just draw put it to my head and bang. To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
That’s all; and in sleep to say that we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
The emotional pain and the many stresses
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
That we are subject to, it’s an achievement
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To be sought eagerly. To die, to sleep;
The world lies to us. Makes us feel, to hope, to dream. Then laughs and stabs us again and again. there is no reason to go on. none at all.

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