On Friday, the weather was awesome. We have finally seen the back of the cold for some months to come. The sun was bright and shiny. Around 4, I packed up and was walking towards the station. Looking at all the people basking in the sun with their beers, drinks etc. And I thought,'What a perfect day to die'. So then I thought - Am I depressed? After a bit, the answer came - Nope. Well maybe a little but that is normal. So why am I thinking of suicide? Thought a bit more. I have everything a guy could ask for. No troubles in life and no worries. So then what is it? Why quit? One thing that kept coming up was I dont enjoy anything anymore. Nothing absolutely. What a shame. A lot of people would give an arm or leg to be in my position. I guess my screws are loose or am permanently warped. This was the first time in my life that this thought popped in my head. Bored of writing but had to pen this somewhere. It's sort of like Vincent Van Gogh painting his last sun. And I read Robert Crumb then who I agree with more or less.
Killing yourself is a major commitment, it takes a kind of courage. Most people just lead lives of cowardly desperation. It's kinda half suicide where you just dull yourself with substances - Robert Crumb
Current music: Morphine - I had my chance
