Memoir Of A Suicide

Desperation can make people do some strange things. It's desperation that causes you to walk to a garage for twenty minutes in the pissing rain for ciggarettes at 3 am. Its desperarion that forces you into the pub at lunchtime after you've just been dumped so you can hide from the truth and not have to admit it to anyone. And in a more extreme case, its desperation that caused me to end up here, barely conscious on my livingroom floor, waiting for the comfort of death. 

Now, so no one is mistaken, the comfort of death is not my goal because of some burgulary gone wrong, i have not been mortally wounded by a jealous ex or a madman with an ax. I caused this, I made this choice, and in my mind it's the best choice I've ever made.