Despite always less, the present outweighs the past.

Do not all things come to pass? That is what I want to know. Calling all suiciders in the astral plane.

I imagine that, were I a suicider and was not in heaven’s gate, if I popped up in the afterlife upon my death, I’ll have seen that scenario coming, with knowing what I expect to happen, but I won’t understand then, how I brought myself to do it;

had I not had my belief in the afterlife, then shocked and crushed, I surely would feel like a failure for continuing to exist and perhaps guilty to a higher power for discarding what it gave me, depending on how it goes down.

See, I could never kill myself. God is keeping me alive is a bold thought. If I were an atheist, and existence was a drag, maybe then I could kill myself. I’d owe nothing to anyone as an atheist.

Belief systems install motives, but lack thereof does not.

There is something strangely romantic about not being OK with the state of oneself; about loathing oneself and believing in bicameralism. Suicide is like a break up with oneself; death is consequent because one can’t escape oneself. I picture a man at four am in his boxers, a bmi failure punishing his lungs with cigarettes: you may only live once but already is too much, theory.


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