Don't tell me you never, ever, thought about it.
"Oh no, that's sick!", you might say?
Oh yeah?...I don't think so.
Why don't we ponder a reality,
that so many people have chosen for themselves.
I don't dwell on suicide.
I think I am somewhat healthy, mentally.
Of course, this is MY subjective point of view.
Somehow, the act of suicide intrigues me.
How would I do it?
I definitely would not put the gun in my mouth.
This is way too messy, and too many things might go wrong.
I don't want to leave myself as a...
living, breathing, bloody, vegetable.
I don't want to be a burden on my family.
Jumping off a skyscraper is just as bad.
I nix it.
I woudn't want to squash some innocent pedestrian,
or ruin some businessman's new, Mercedes SL-500 Sedan.
I wouldn't use pills...They are too unreliable.
I might get sick instead of dead.
I probably would throw them up...
and wake up with a ghastly hangover.
No sense in being depressed and suicidal!
I don't want to face a long term, de-humanizing disease,
which makes me a burden to my family...
They and I don't need to experience a great suffering over a number of years.
I have a plan!
I think I would travel to Amsterdam.
I could buy a good supply of Heroin...
a couple of syringes...
a case of 35 year-old, single-malt Scotch...
a brick of great Hashish...
rent 2-or-3 beautiful and intelligent call girls...
to be my angels of mercy...
and givers of physical and spiritual enjoyment...
check into a gloriously beautiful Hotel...
surround myself with my closest friends and family...
and have a "DEATHDAY" party!
(I would only do this if I outlived my wife.
I would be brave for her.
I owe her that much...and would die in a conventional way.)
Anyway, back to my dream...
I would party for a week,
and on the last eve of the celebration...
I would say my "goodbyes"...
and inject myself with enough heroin,
to kill a horse.
I would say my prayers,
and bid all a gleefull farewell.
Then I would make my journey into the beyond.
My arrangements would have been made.
My close friends, would have me cremated...
and ship me back to the good old U.S.A.
I would be in my Harley Davidson Urn.
The ashes would be scattered in various favorite pubs,
and places that I loved.
Suicide, isn't totally painless.
It is sometimes the cowards way out.
But not all the time!
It's a helluva lot better than,
soiling one's diapers and suffering in silence,
in some pricey, urine stenched, old people's home.
You know these places.
They have institutional gray-green walls.
Old people stare at them, as they mutter mindlessly,
Some are hoping for death to come quickly.
Day after day...
week after week...
month after month...
year after year...
Now, This is painful!
It also is inhumane.
It makes no sense!
I am a Kevorkian kind of guy!
Our stupid society put him in jail,
for assisting people with their suicides.
I think the good Doctor performed a great public service!
People who commit rational suicide have guts.
They know society has mixed things up.
These geriatric care centers suck up money.
They are an arm of the medical, hospital, AMA,
government,and pharmaceutical establishments.
They are in it for the MONEY!
Life savings are lost in these shit holes!
There will be no "stiff upper lip" for this cowboy.
I want to die on my own terms.
I want to go out with my guns a blazin'!
I want to be riding a beauty!
I want to sit tall in the saddle, one more time!
I want to die on a groovy high!
I want to die with some dignity.
Even if it's hedonistic, bohemian, and non-conventional!
So be it!