Hello? Is this it? Am I dead, already? Sigh. Disappointing.
The gash on my wrist is long and red. My hand floats on the water as I lie lazily lifeless in my bathtub. I cannot seem to find the blade which did the deed. I remember the sharp pang which flooded my brain when I slashed the cold steely blade along the length of my vein. Along the vein, of course; cutting across the vein rarely ever kills a person. The pain was short lived – the hallucinations lasted forever.
I float above this pathetic scene. Through the cracked rooftop of the shady apartment where I spent my last few days wallowing in self misery and heroin. There, floating high in the sky, I look down on the wretched, solipsistic, narcissistic mass of humanity. There were my murderers. There were the victims. Going about their monotonous lives. Trying to give it some meaning; some reason to everything that they do. Deluding themselves by saying that their insignificant lives somehow matter in the great scheme of thing. That, somehow, their 9 to 5 jobs, their BMWs, their kids, their degrees, their grades, their relationships, their money, their property, their lives on a tiny planet revolving around a small yellow star in the outer reaches of one of the billion galaxies in this Universe, holds some meaning. I wasn’t part of them, now. I was finally free. I would be happy, content – but I don’t feel a thing anymore. Debitum Naturae. The debt of nature has finally been paid.