My last moment was not extinguished by my own hand, fate struck foul and stole my act of defiant suicide from me with a simple slip of the chair on which i stood. I fell helpless into the trap i had left myself, i dangled, strangled, the life extinguished in the a manner i had anticipated but had wished to choose myself. Now i lie here, cold, desecrated. No one will ever know the torment of my last breathes knowing i had been robbed this last comfort. To them it looks all but the same as i had intended, a calculated step into death, an escape from the suffering i had encountered, a cowards way out. Suicide. In fact, the strength and defiance i somewhat sort in this death, were cruelly stolen from my last moments by malicious coincidence. Damned fate.

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Just to be clear, i am not contemplating partaking in suicide, it was merely an inspired vision of sorts that gave way to inspired fiction. I doubt i would ever have the conviction or desire to take my own life, i am addicted to pleasure far too much to do so.

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I saw as it a person who knows what one may be thinking when they have tried or have decided to end their life. This is a very good piece darling.

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Immortal we may be but still not out of reach from deaths hand

Thanks for the comment.

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Thanks for the comment.

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Yeah...It's quite amazing...Though it's a little bit pessimistic.

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Death I am and death I shall always be

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The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? -Edgar Allen

Song of the month - Marilyn Manson: This is the new shit

Send me an email describing it as fully as you like. I would love to read it.

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It is good for ones confidence.

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