Free write

Suicide or quit my job? Pros and cons to each. But I think suicide would be more financially within my reach. I could leave money aside for funeral expenses and the like. I know what music I want playing, I could make it so it could be open casket and have something nice to wear. It would take a lot less planning then getting a new job, a lot less stress for me. I already don’t get to see friends and family that often, I have already lost friends and family. I know it is hard but everyone moves on. The bad things is I’ll never get to know if things could have been better. I just don’t have the energy to find out. I feel like I am zigzagging in circles in a dark foggy overgrown forest. What is life anyways except a disjointed flow of thoughts and emotions? I guess my cats would miss me but someone would look after them, some people would miss me but I am easily replaced. Some would say that suicide is a soft option… and I guess they are right, it is entirely selfish and the path of least resistance, but is it more selfish then say, having children? Think that someone thinks so highly of themselves that they feel the need to make more versions of themselves to fill the already overpopulated planet. The world doesn’t have long anyway, I would guess not more then a few more centuries at best. I know I wouldn’t live that long if I wanted but to see the decline is disheartening, our race as a whole is selfish enough to think that there is a need for more and more copies of us. When all of our little copies are turning out to be a bigger tax on resources already reaching the empty line. Maybe suicide is a hero’s out. I have not made copies of myself, I am not going to continue to burn fossil fuels or consume more then I give back, I am going to give myself to the greater good and say that the needs of many are more worthy then my small needs. What are my needs? Well they are small at that, I need food, shelter and security. But the cost to myself to obtain these goals is ridiculous. Work that is sprit rending and soul crushing, friends that are un loyal and uncaring, family that has too many worries to add any more to the stack. Heck in the last few years alone I have lost a great grandma, a second cousin, two great uncles, my grandma and my cousin. Then in the next few months will be my aunt to be followed shortly my grandpa. I know some are more distant and some are older but it doesn’t pay to be related to me. So in short my family is over taxed, my death would be such a small thing compared to my being unemployed and a leach on someone else’s resources. Sure I could go back to school, but that cost alone would sink me for life, why get a good education if it means living with the same financial worries. At this point education doesn’t even guarantee and job or a well paying one, so I could end up worse off. And the hoops I would have to jump through to even get into that situation. Seems like a test and the smart ones opt out. I know that there are plenty of good reasons to get an education and have a job that doesn’t feel like your insides are being dragged though hot coals everyday, but the path to that mythical “otherside” has it’s own flesh burning moments. For instance I didn’t come out of my first degree in any shape to go back and get another. I skated though high school and then college. Sure I worked hard, sometimes and went to classes, sometimes and studied, sometimes but all of those sometimes have a price, for me a 2.6 gpa. Worst in my life, I would be ashamed but some people would think that is a good gpa and I don’t want to hurt their feelings. I am sure I could study and do really well on the GMAT test and maybe write a killer essay. Also I have worked for the last three and a half years and I know that experience counts for something. Still, I want to know that if I go through all that I will get something out of it. But life had no guarantees like that. Maybe if I quit my job and spend my savings I will have nothing in three months. Nothing. Maybe I would get a part time job and start figuratively slicing open my sensitive bits again just to make it to the next day. Or I could get into school, accrue the debt and then find no job and end up with less then nothing. Sure I could say I have a fancy degree but who cares, I can’t eat it, use it to keep me warm or safe. The most I could do would be to hang it on my wall, my cardboard tent city wall, as I join the ever growing homeless population. That reminds me, I could give my time to soup kitchens and animal rescue, I could help others find hope and in doing so help myself find hope. Well that may work for some but I highly doubt that someone would want me to be the one to help them out. I can’t even make it though one day without crying, one day without swearing I will do something to change my situation, one day without wishing I could just start all over. They say I will be a stronger and better person after this, one who had gone though hardships and come out the other side more self sufficient and wiser in the ways of the world. Those are the stories anyway, what about the ones that don’t make it though? Where are their stories? I’ll tell you where they are, in the bylines of the survivors tales. In the “I lost my aunt to cancer and my 22 year old cousin to suicide” they are the aunts and the cousins and the people on the wrong bus as the train hits it and their stories are everywhere making the rest of the stories look better in comparison. But then again who knows? My grandma had a rich and full life with lots of children and grandchildren. She traveled all over the world and had her own business and lived quite a few years. Was she happy? Does it matter? She experienced it and went though it came out the other side and essentially died of old age. Hers is not a compelling tale but in the hands of a storyteller you would want to hear it. Just meaning it is all in perspective. Happy or sad or irritating, everyone’s story could be somewhat interesting and I know mine could be if I let it, but to me it is very dull. A drudging morose plot that seems to take perverse pleasure in tormenting the heroine. Well maybe not the heroine but my main character and honestly I am being bored to death. Suicide is looking like an attractive offer. Oblivion. Dust to dust and ashes to ashes I would not have to get up and stumble about my days I would not have to make motions of being aware and interested in the world around me. Already I find myself spacing out and daydreaming. Well I always do that and very lucidly as well, but it is a richer world then the one I live in, with handsome men and my sparking wits. Where the people I don’t like get just desserts and the ones I do get, well just desserts but like chocolate instead of sawdust. Where my humor is appreciated and celebrated and I don’t have to worry about if I am happy because whatever it is I feel is, it just is. Well many have dreamlands and fantasies maybe I am not so different then I feel. When a long ago ex tells me that he still thinks I am cute and would sleep with me it makes me giggle. When I can make a coworkers cloud of funk dissipate a bit see a smile I put in place, I do feel good. I am not a stone though I may want to be. I desperately would like to be able to start both an animal shelter and a homeless shelter. I find aid for others I feel are lost. However I would never be emotionally sound enough to deal with caging animals and people would frustrate and disappoint. I am not one that can say “it’s for your own good” and slam the door shut or try to change who someone is fundamentally to make them into a being society would recognize. I do understand the need for help and see with in me the ability to do great good, but also to cause great damage. I need to take care of myself first. I don’t even know which ledge to jump off of, how would I help others to do it for themselves? Though I may be able to learn though their journey’s I do not wish to follow that path at this time. No I know that mine is suicide or quit my job. I just wish I could know already.