Suicide

I think about dying. When I’m really sleepy, I think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But there is still potential for pleasure. Even the pain I don’t mind because I know it is like dark to the light pleasure. It must have its opposite. Which is why it is when I am sleepy that death seems alright. I am not satisfied nor do I seek satisfaction, I am depleted, ready for the dark and quite for a little while. Buddha sought to escape suffering. Where there is craving there is suffering, he said. So he reached nirvana and no longer craved and therefore no longer suffered. I tried this once. When I couldn’t taste. And I walked alone at night. I decided I prefer the craving, and the suffering is not too expensive a price for pleasure. I stay alive because I am hungry, I live for the satiation. On the flatline I do not rise. I rise on the widening amplitudes of my undulations.