Suicide and Hope

 

The Christmas holidays.  I am alone.  My longtime girlfriend dumped me, so I broke up with her.  Is my life worth living?  I don’t think so, but the tax people do.

I was going to kill myself, so I bought a noose.  But there was a warning label on the package:

WARNING: Choking Hazard

I decided not to use the noose because I could choke to death.

 

I do not own a gun.  If I did, then I would not shoot myself.  The noise would disturb my neighbors, and they would call the police.  Then the police would charge me for disturbing the peace. I would have to pay a fine or go to jail.  So, shooting myself is not an option.

 

I found a bottle of pills, but I do not know what they are.  They could be harmful.  The label says, “Consult your doctor for the correct dosage.”  I do not have a doctor.  I stay healthy by keeping away from doctors.  So much for taking an overdose of pills.

I could jump in front of a subway, but I have a monthly transit pass.  To get my full financial benefit from the pass, I would have to wait until the end of the month to jump. I do not want to wait that long.

I thought about jumping from the balcony of a tall building, but I am afraid of heights.  So, no swan dives into the concrete for me.

For now, I will have to go on breathing.  In fact, it isn’t the breathing that is bad. It is the living that comes with the breathing.  In my case, the living means being alone and depressed and trying to get rid of a pimple on the end of my nose.

 

Hope?  There is always hope.   There is always the hope that one day I will be able to kill myself without getting hurt, and still be able to borrow books from the library.  But until that day comes, I will keep breathing and wallow in my loneliness and depression.  Besides, things could always be worse:  I could be lonely, depressed, and have a giant pimple on my nose.

 

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About the Author

I am Minnie and Chic's son.

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