the doctor asked what i do to get over my frequent suicidal thoughts..
usually i dive right in.. i imagine very graphically my scenario of the moment, i change it every time. imagining my death in detail somehow makes me feel a bit better. release. like waking up from a nightmare. until next time. this time i sat fetus style in my lazy boy. slit a scalpel deep across my wrists. which almost did not hurt. just a sting. the chair got soaked and the floor surrounding. a few days later the cats got very hungry, cause i’m a cruel creature, even though i love them as my own, i left them in need. when there is none of my flesh left the loving brothers will fight each other for a final meal. the ‘winner’, in deep trauma of having just witnessed his whole family disappear, will soon starve to death. i should leave them out too feed themselves but it’s so cold. so maybe open a window so they can get in. then, in a few more days someone who cares will drive a day to get here to see if everything is ok. their lives will change forever.
that’s about it. no i don’t feel much better.