I never fully understood why people would kill themselves.
If you wanted to die, then you obviously don’t give a @$+#... Like, about anyone. Because if there is anyone who loves you, you pretty much don’t give a flying @*#% about them, or hurting them, and if there’s not, there’s no one to give a @$+# about.
So, instead of killing yourself, why don’t you just get the @*#% out? Leave the basement, leave your house, leave the *!#$+@@##%*%! country for %+++'s sake. Go on an adventure. Spend your time doing something awesome, like tracking down some terrorist. Go be James Bond. Go @*#% up a shark with a harpoon. Danger? @*#% that, you were going up against a 100% death rate before, you’re being safe now. @*#% EVERYTHING, man, the world is your oyster.
Sometimes I wish I was suicidal. I’d pull the barrel out of my mouth and point it in the air, start a revolution, LIVE. Move to Barcelona, hit the bars, bang some chicks. STDs, who gives a @$+#, like seriously?
And when I’m done, maybe I won’t want to kill myself, because now I’ve seen how beautiful the world really is.