I Am Dead To Them, Even Though

Good To Know That If I Ever Need Attention All I Have To Do Is Die.

I Shut My Eyes And All The World Drops Dead; I Lift My Eyes And All Is Born Again.

There Is More Than One Good Way To Drown.

Why Am I Obsessed With The Idea I Can Justify Myself By Getting Manuscripts Published? Is It An Escape-an Excuse For Any Social Failure-so I Can Say "no, I Don't Go Out For Many Extracurricular Activities, But I Spend A Lot Of Time Writing."

Pretty Soon, The Only Doubt In My Mind Was The Precise Time And Method Of Committing Suicide. The Only Alternative I Could See Was An Eternity Of Hell For The Rest Of My Life In A Mental Hospital, And I Was Going To Use My Last Ounce Of Free Choice And Choose A Quick Clean Ending.