The Anti-Suicide Note...or Why I'll Still be Breathing Tomorrow

So tonight, I was talking to my dear friend, Gibson, about how awesome my life is going right now and he inquired if I'd 'be okay' tonight. I assured him that my belt was for keeping my pants up, the window of my room does not open, and I no longer wear shoes with laces. But it got me thinking - if I were to kill myself, what would I put in the note.

Think about it - it's the last thing I'd ever write..man, now that's pressure! What if something is misspelled or I misuse the word 'myriad.' Maybe I confuse my active and passive verbs or throw in some word/phrase that has been made up and while common knowledge among my inner-circle, people misread me being 'owned by life' and think I offed myself because for financial reasons and horrible rumors start about me that I am unable to defend myself against because I have offered myself up as worm food.

Don't even get me started about having my burial arrangments being picked out for me. Mother has already purchased plots for the whole family in tiny little lake town, which is the last place on Earth where I want my remains to rest. She'll also pick out some horrid pink outfit for me and do something weird to my new bangs. Just the thought of spending eternity in Illinois, wearing mall hair and an Olan-Mills-worthy outfit is enough to make me want to live to fight one more day.

Final reason why I'm not going to kill myself tonight: the expulsion of the bowels upon expiration. Those who have seen South Park know what I'm talking about. Simply and crudely put, you shit yourself when you die. And if I'm going to be found with pants full of poo, it's not going to be at an age where I should know better or have been able to control myself.

In summation, you're going to see me tomorrow. I'll be up and wandering the streets before hopping back in the Canyonero 2.0 and trekking back to Peoria, frozen tundra that smells like beer. Granted, for all practical purposes, I'm homeless and I'm extremely heart broken, but I still have 2 job interview this week. I have to go make my mother proud because to her, the measure of one's success is not the worth they see in their own life (and right now it's just barely enough to not go suck on a tailpipe, but at least that's a start) and their level of happiness (though it makes me smirk a bit that there are people out there who care enough to not help me further emotionally destory myself) but rather what they can achieve. And let me tell you - those Little Lebowski Urban Achievers have nothing on this gal.

What did you achieve today? If you see me, you'll know what I achieved. Congratulate me - I dare you.