I can't stop thinking about suicide. Not for myself, that's not my path. It's the moments after the decision is made that haunt me. I want to know if the relief comes or if it's just pain pain pain until the very end. I'm worried that there is regret when it's too late. I'm wondering if just one more good solid show of care would've changed things. I'm trying to figure out the neuro linguistics of it all. Here and there. Alive and not. Better and worse. Worse and better. I don't know. When someone just doesn't want to do it anymore, when they really and truly believe it is not ever going to be a viable option to exist here and now or evermore do they also believe the next existence is easier? Are they given the gift of knowledge of the other side? Or is it the only curiosity left that matters...
I can't be very deep or eloquent about it. My philosophy on it has become quite naive and simplified over the past couple of months. I'm getting morbid about it. My old philosophies no longer apply, interrupted by my emotions. No poetic waxing. I feel sick when I think about Heather and I'm selfish to be spending so much time thinking about what she has chosen. I feel sick because I saw her as a woman of possibility. I feel sick because I believe she could have surmounted the odds against her. I feel sick because there is no turning back. I feel sick because 7 would love her through every fault and error and triumph. I feel sick because I can't figure out if all the things she hated about society have won or if she has somehow won. I feel sick because there are a lot of suck ass people on this planet and she was not one of them.