Questions Of Death, Suicide & Insanity.

I have come to a conclusion: the best way to die via suicide will be to have an overdose of sleeping pills.

Either that, or the more illegal way of drug overdose. Either way, they are about the same matter. It will be the easiest, safest, most comfortable, most beautiful method to end one’s chapter on the planet Earth. It is just a routine of popping them one by one or all at a go into one’s mouth and swallowing them down with water, and thereafter, it is just mere waiting. And waiting. And waiting. For the moment to come when one takes one’s last breath. In the meantime, one can lay comfortably in bed or on the floor, or to be more dramatic, in the bathtub. As described by a book, “with each pill swallowed… felt more convinced: after five minutes the packs were empty”; there are enough time to feel or reflect about.

The other options just aren’t as good. Slashing one’s wrists will be too bloody to handle, moreover one may miss the spot; jumping off a building will give a moment of high and more hardfelt pain upon reaching ground contact, moreover a disfigured person; hanging will hurt the throat. More importantly, they are more easily for the party to chicken out before actually being able to carry out the plan.

No, I am not thinking about committing suicide now, though I have thought about it before. I guess it is just normal for one to think about death once and in a while, isn’t it? To think about the future, what it actually means to be living; if one’s to have a funeral ceremony, who’ll be the faithful bunch that’ll attend, those alive, of course; how much money is needed for a casket; is it important to have a future generation to carry on with the family name; am I supposing to go to Heaven or to Hell; will I be a wandering ghost of nowhere; will the people that I have met in this lifetime know of my non-existence anymore?

Questions, questions, questions with no answers.

On another topic altogether, I still have a huge desire to have a stay at a mental hospital for some time. I have always wondered how it will feel like to be living in the ‘mad’ world. I wonder whether will I freak out with the people living there; my degree of madness as compared with my sanity; the actual meaning of sanity in this world that we live in now; whether will I make many friends there; will I be popular inside; how much pills will I have to take; how will they make me ‘sane’ again; how will they prevent me from doing crazy things; will I be strapped up or held enclosed like an exhibit.

Argh. It’s Friday night; I should do something nonsense, like get drunk.


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