cw: suicide
extra layer of cw: this is a suicide note.
i have withdrawn the money from my bank account that was going to pay rent for december to buy a handgun and ammo, which i will now use to kill myself. this post is a scheduled post that will publish at 10am monday december 5. it is now sunday december 4 at 12:20 pm eastern time.
my intention is to aim for the heart, as seeing this world’s cruelty has broken it. the cruelty of capitalism. the cruelty of transphobia and other far-right extremist beliefs. et cetera.
should there be no afterlife, the end of existence will be a mercy. should there be an afterlife, then it is where i go as a refugee from this life.
if there is no afterlife, this life doesn’t matter. there’s no point in persisting, in building something, if it’ll all be gone one day. ozymandias indeed.
if there is an afterlife, this life matters even less in comparison. here, we struggle in vain every day to try to eke out the little bits of joy that can be found. but when we’re not experiencing those tiny joy bits, we’re collecting trauma.
nonexistence doesn’t scare me. an afterlife doesn’t scare me. even persisting in this world doesn’t “scare” me, i’m just not interested in doing it anymore. i’m not interested in spending each day seeing an endless deluge of advertisements trying to make me make this world worse. if there’s an afterlife, they probably refer to this earth as “the advertising planet” or maybe even “the spam planet”. it’s garbage and i want off it right now.
so i’m leaving. the only thing that does scare me, is pulling the trigger. the moment of anxiety. all my hopes and fears converging on one single instant.
well, if you end up seeing this post, you’ll know i pulled the trigger. whether it killed me is as of yet a mystery--people survive getting shot in the chest, after all. when the shot fires, everyone in the building will hear it and investigate. the door is locked, but only by deadbolt, not by the little chain hook thingy. if the shot isn’t immediately lethal, they might be able to get me to a hospital. who knows. if the shot isn’t immediately lethal and i remain conscious, my plan is to fire again--this baby holds 10 rounds! i’m not some sucker who only loads 1 round to kill myself like one asshole i know.
anyways. that’s it for us.
Morgan Dee, the captain Falcon, the first mate Unit M.L.E., the navigator Diedre, the ship’s doctor The Critical Chorus aka The Pestilence Choir, the crew Meskle, a stowaway and perhaps others




















