When you decide to die, little things begin
to happen. You stop looking both ways before you cross the street, you
start answering the door without asking who’s there. You don’t hold onto
the railing when you go down the escalator, you don’t buckle your seat
belt. You play with matches. You smoke, and breathe it in, actually
praying it will make a difference. Deciding to die is actually almost
nice, in a way. You stop caring. Even if you are not pro-actively
looking for ways to kill yourself, you stop looking for ways to survive.
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen