“I just wanna lay here and let myself die…”

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[The working introduction for my upcoming book]

 

 

 

If you’re reading this, then (odds are) you want kill yourself.

 

To which I say:

 

Good for you.

 

It’s about g☼ddamn time.

 

 

 

I mean, cheese n’ fucking rice, how long are you going to be the world’s punching bag?

 

How often are you going to seek approval and validation for every little decision you make?

 

How long are you going to keep working at that loathsome job you hate that offers no prospect of advancement, let alone satisfaction?

 

Not to mention the effort to which you go to please/placate your parents.

 

(You’re way too old for that, by the way.)

 

Seriously.

 

Just end it.

 

 

 

Oh, wait a second.

 

Do you think I mean you should force the cessation of all of your involuntary, bodily, life-support functions?

 

No, no, no.

 

It’s adorable (and laughable) that you’d think you’re getting out of this that easily.

 

But you’re not.

 

See, you’ve decided to throw your life away.

 

And I caught it.

 

So listen up…

 

 

 

 

 

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