Suicide no. 57: Waxing Philosophical
–by Derek Alan Wilkinson
I keep going to these parties. I get drunk, and I start talking philosophy.
Nobody likes it when I do that.
So, I get as drunk as I can–until I forget that the world cannot forgive asking questions that nobody wants to know the answers to.
The truth is, I’d rather go around the room with a loaded shotgun, shoving it into these peoples’ mouths, and asking, “Why do you want to live your life?”
In my compassion, I’ve decided to contain my psychopathy into a single round–and fire it into my own skull.
After all–if no one wants to know the answer, who am I to bring that daunting challenge upon them? Who am I to attempt to destroy the naivety of humanity?