Push-ups, Poetry and Toilet-cleaning

Maybe suicide is a bet

that nothing

could be worse



And if it is,

I need to know now. The suspense is killing me.

Never expected to seriously consider it. But there was a point where being married with children was unimaginable. Knowing that ones own death is impending and doing it ones own way, that’s simply not the same thing.

Seems like - ya complain - it’s at least a tiny bit regrettable. You say something mean, eventually regret it. Punch through a wall, smash your computer, beat on a friend?

Regret, regret, regret.

Cut off  a body part? Fuck your nerves permanently with Merck products?


Here's to reality checks and remembering even when sleep

seems like

an escape

forever more