Being out of all this hell. One way or another, it will happen. The time will come when I no longer exist. I'll be out of it all, whether by my own hand or a terminal illness.
Everybody else seems to like living. They have a zest for life. I have a zest for oblivion. In the end, I'll get it. They won't get life, not in the end. All their bullshit stories of heaven, hell, whatever will not be fulfilled.
But mine will. I will be out.
Damn, that's just so great.
Everybody else seems to like living. They have a zest for life. I have a zest for oblivion. In the end, I'll get it. They won't get life, not in the end. All their bullshit stories of heaven, hell, whatever will not be fulfilled.
But mine will. I will be out.
Damn, that's just so great.
