Chapter 43

Am I the only one that gets on a bus called self destruction and ride it into tomorrow?

Am I the only one that drags myself out, like a halot and disgrace us, in front of the hypocritice eyes of the world?

I tell myself, "Destroy us, before the world does."

My death by my own hands.

What could be more merciful than the act of mercy killing?

What could be more loving than dying by your own hands?

Not dying by the hands of your lover, a stranger, a family member or your enemy.

But by your own hands.

Someone asked me if I fear death and my answer was, "I have never seen the red eyes of Death so how can I fear him? Although at some point in my meaningless miserable life, I had stood in front of him. But still I have never seen his eyes. But I know they are red."

So, a toast to self destruction and death by ones own hands, you both are my cowardly escape.