Don’t be alarmed. I’m not the type to do suicide, but I am the type to romanticize it’s benefits. Today is one of those days that I’m contemplating my death, and what a relief it will be to have this all over. This mortal world, for all of its beauty, experience, pleasure and wonders is a pain in the ass for the most part.
I don’t believe in this bullshit about waking up every morning with wide eyes and a sense of glee thinking about the new day. I wake up every morning and think. “Already? I haven’t even recovered from yesterday yet.” I don’t believe in false optimism. I don’t believe in exaggerated hope.
Things are what they are. Sometimes it’s great, most of the time though, things are difficult. People around you can be difficult. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to sit there and tell others how wonderful life is when, in truth, you are dying inside.
I know suffering makes us better. That is it’s only redeeming value. If there were no strength to be gained from suffering, it would be utterly useless.
So that is how I manage to get by each day. At the end of most days, I say… “Well, that sucked, but at least its over and when something even worse happens, I’ll be able to handle it, coz I handled the todays bullshit.”
Coz that’s what most of it is… bullshit.
So this brings me back to my tendency to romanticize suicide, or death. A few weeks ago, I was watching Frontline on PBS. And this guy, who was sick from a terminal disease that gave him only a degenerating body to look forward to, and no decent quality of life, decided to opt for assisted suicide. As I watched this guy take his pills, fall asleep and then peacefully slip away into eternity, I felt an incredible amount of envy. All I could think of was my own death, and how good it will feel to be out of this mortal body. To be free of my defective brain. To be free from all of this mortal bullshit.
I’ll stick around until my time is done. Why? I’m not fully sure. I know I’m told that there is a great reward if I endure my life well, along with it’s inherent bullshit, but that’s not what I’m sticking around for. I honestly think the reason I don’t off myself is because I have a sense of responsibility for the life I have. It was given to me, so I have to make the best of it, despite it’s hardships. Whether I like it or not, it’s a gift. A gift with some benefits, and some nasty drawbacks.
Either way, I’m looking forward to my death. I think that, if I leave this life knowing I didn’t let it beat me, it will make the rest that much more sweet. I won’t have regret about how I lived it, I will know that I did what I could, that I put up with the bullshit, and now I can be free of this oppressive mortal state with a sense of peace. Peace will be the final reward. I couldn’t be at peace knowing I didn’t finish the race honorably.
