When I was writing some letters should something go south I came across an ironic explanation to why I’m still here.
– Suicide is a form of murder – premeditated murder. It isn’t something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes getting used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind. –
Anyone that knows me will mostly agree that I normally have a plan for everything and until that plan is fine tuned it won’t be ready to execute. I feel sorry for my friends who think I’m crying wolf or looking for attention. I don’t need attention to hold my life in the balance.
I’m setting the 2nd week of March to attempt a revamp and taking some time off to facilitate maybe starting some things over. If I get there.
I’ve not hugged a human in over a year, I’ve not kissed anyone since the knight on a white horse broke Cinderella’s heart. 1 year ago today was the last time I stepped foot in a restaurant. Now I’ve completed my Covid vaccinations I hope to find those who maybe I can share a meal with under the sun and a picnic table.
My life has stopped and ceased to move in time. I think this is worse than death. The pain, humiliation, sorrow, loneliness would cease if I just jump onto a railway or that key card I have to the roof of the BOK that’s a quick 52 floor drop. 667ft .. I would reach 141mph and fall for 6.4 seconds. What would I think about for those 6 seconds? Probably not much because currently not ready so at 4 seconds I would pull the parachute.
Time is near.