Final Notes of a Suicidal

TRUE ! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad ? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad ? Hearken ! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.” — Edgar Alane Poe, The Tell-Tale Heart

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I’M GOING TO KILL MYSELF… It might be a little weird or childish to say as such with so ease and indifference as if I’m declaring my intention to drink a cup of tea or admiring the clear skies.. Alas, it’s the truth.. It’s true that I’m feeling indifferent about that, and it’s true that these lines, these very lines are my last legacy on the lands of mortals before I begin my journey to the afterlife… I’m not a strict believer, but I know what awaits me, and I know that, for some reasons, I feel like forced to do that with hanged emotions that God shall forgive my sins…
 Throughout my life, I’ve been accused of being an untrustworthy and showy guy who likes to make a show of his brilliant mind and compelling abilities.. But deep down inside, I’m just a boy who tries to survive his day… I’ve always been like that.. But the troubles of the days have affected my behavior.. my underdeveloped social expertise.. And here I am, a different man from who I used to be.. from who I wanted to be.. Heart broken… dreams lost… friends gone… future threatened… WHAT’S THERE TO LIVE FOR ?

All of these thoughts run through my mind every single day like a tape on automatic repeat and shuffle… Whoever I am now, WHATEVER I am now, I’m still bonded and chained with unseen tethers… I’ve caused so much casualties in my mind, all of them are me… I keep trying to visualize my death.. a perfect suicide, a flawless rapid death with no possible fix, no coming back, and in the shortest of time, of course with the lowest costs and the highest secrecy till I pass away.. And I guess I’ve finally found a scenario.. O yes I did.. A scenario that’s not only definite, but also classy and considers the last wish thingy…
 Most of those suicidals who have been saved made a mistake… They might have triggered the hysteric alarm in their consciousness and sub-consciousness.. They might have been in a time or a place where they were discovered so easily by accident or they made noise enough to be heard and saved.. They might have used a medication overdose, like excess of Aspirin, and that can be cured by abdominal wash…

In my scenario, that I’ve visioned on me, I’ll use a nice cup of tea of the famous toxic ground berries of Belladonna, a towel and a sharp blade, like a knife or a scalpel…
 It all must happen with specific timing or this ain’t work properly.. And we won’t want to make a mess after so long planning, huh?

At first, I’d prepare the Belladonna tea.. The toxicity of Belladonna is nice.. It comes with delusions and painkilling, which is something so lovely in such a plan.. I’ve been chased and haunted for so long by the ghosts of my own mind.. It’s time to finally meet these delusions face to face before my transition to the afterlife… They call the Belladonna “Deadly Nightshade”, which is a name that I find so poetic…
 I’d secure the towel, after 3 minutes of drinking the tea, between my teeth to fill all over my mouth (to mute the agonized scream).. The blade, so sharp and cold, cuts easily and swiftly through my skin around the softer side of my neck, the insider one, to cut the cervical artery (which supplies Oxygen and nutrients to the brain cells, and thus preserves its cellular structure).. Sudden searing pain rips through the freshly throbbing wound.. Adrenaline courses my system, shock kicks in with Morphine to unite with the Atropine of the Belladonna and soothe me in my final minutes on Earth, but no time to get high, we still have work to do… A sudden cry of agony fights its way through my chest and clenched teeth, but the towel totally mutes it… Dizziness and sudden headaches try to rip my consciousness apart, but I’d ignore all of it as I stick to the plan and pull some new wounds on the softer side of my forehands cutting through the radial artery and Palmar Arch of my left wrist… Nausea becomes a new experience, but unconsciousness hits faster than any…

Suicidal Prognosis :
 Unconsciousness : after about 1:3 minutes max before entering a coma, as a final act of the brain to shutdown everything and focus on the vital organs only.
 Death (drain of blood) : not sure, but 15 minutes should suffice for finale death.

My last prank in the land of the living before leaving it is the smiley face I drew on the knife and my face with red ink.. I mean by it that a smile on the face is never an indication of happiness.. A smile on the face might be hiding worlds of sufferings, cries and torturing inside.. This smile might be the fruit of long trials to actually beg it from the face muscles…

Excuse me now, I take my leave.. Farewell to you all.. Remember me…

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