Why me?

Grow up. Money doesn't grow on trees. The chances of winning the lottery are 1 in 45,321,785,142, the chances of winning the Publisher's Clearance House are 1 in 1,354,852,055. The chances of there being snow on the equator are better. Grow up. Get a job, stop charging things on your credit card you know you can't afford. Grow up.

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But here's the thing about that. Are dreams childish? Sometimes, but sometimes our childish dreams are the only thing keeping us alive. You live in Hell. Forget that. Hell is a five star hotel compared to this place. Your next door neighbor has Autism, no volume control, threw your coffee pot against the wall to punish you for telling him to '“SHUT THE FUCK UP”' since the neighbor says: “I farted. It's stinky. It's pungent. I farted. Diesel. Jeffrey Gerard. Stinky. Chuck Jones. Gene Rabern, $5,000.” And a whole lot of incoherent shit which makes no sense all day, every day, at the top of his goddamn lungs. And no, he isn't HOH (Hard of Hearing), he's just an idiot with autism. “Some people are simply alive because it's against the law to kill them”.  

He also has no anger management skills. One time, he was doing laundry. Laundry is important to this motherfucking moron since it makes him feel independent. He no longer has to ask his mother to do his goddamn laundry, he can do it all by himself. “Mommy wow. I'm a big kid now.” Here's the thing though. This motherfucking son-of-a-bitch has memory issues, too. So, he's all happy he's getting to do his laundry and then he forgets that he put his laundry in the washing machine and/or dryer and there's one washer and dryer for each floor, so somebody moves his laundry so they can put their laundry in. Then, at full volume, everyone hears: “Goddamn it! Who the hell moved my laundry. It's my laundry. Joey must have done it! I'm going to kill you, Joey.” And then this moron bangs the door against the wall with full strength, over and over. And he's verbally and physically abusive and we share a kitchen. After eight minutes and twenty-three seconds a staff member comes and controls the situation and the situation stops. This moron has made a hole in the wall with the door knob which his parents will have to pay to fix. Hell has better roommates.

He's constantly talking about how his snoring is “like a freight train” and he wears the reflector clothes construction workers wear so that cars will see them, but he isn't a construction worker, but one night I hear this motherfucker say: “I'm going to be a construction worker. Go to night school with the money I saved up and be part of a construction team and get the hell outta here and my mom and dad'll be proud of me and quit yelling at me” and I realized no one wants to be stuck in this shit hole, not even him.  

You could try running away, others have. But, if you try running away, the police will issue a missing person alert and the cops will be after you and they'll organize a search party. You don't want that. You just want your independence the same way any human does. Look at the UDHR (Universal Decleration of Human Rights). The right to get married, have children, own property, etc. But, you'll never get that. You want to date someone outside this facility, not inside. And, there's no internet, since God forbid you should communicate with someone your legal guardian doesn't approve of. But, your legal guardian is old and will be dead soon. Then, you can appeal and get the hell outta here. But, it's not just about getting out of here, it's about figuring out where the hell I'd live if/when I do get outta here. Not safe to live here or to live in the woods. Recipes for Disaster says, “Americans are wasteful” and throw out good food you can eat, which was true before COVID.  

So, why don't you just go outside so you don't have to hear him? Well, because then you have to meet this woman who is half your age and half your maturity level who also talks at the top of her lungs and asks stupid questions non-stop like “Where are you going today? Can I come? Did Kristen call you? She's dating someone else. We're still boyfriend and girlfriend right because otherwise I'll kick your ass”. This woman views you as a possession. Your hers. No one else can have you. She's going to kick anyone's ass who tries to date you. The bitch is like a flea or a tick that's clung on and you just can't shake off. But, remember, you know some Spanish which is an advantage. Then, every morning you can tell her you're going to el bano and she's never allowed in el bano, ever. El Bano is a secret passageway the hell out of this place and she can never visit el bano, not even in her wildest dreams.  

But, there is a way out and now is the day I'm choosing my way out. I'm off of SAMs, the neighbor's violent, the girl is possessive so I'm getting out of here the only way I have left. Does the reader understand biology? Well, certain drugs are metabolized in the kidney and certain drugs are metabolized in the liver. So, if you take too much of a drug metabolized in the kidney, you'll pee it out and nothing'll happen. But, if you take a drug metabolized in the liver, the liver can't take it and you'll die. That's it. That's the best option I have left. It's not the best option. The best options would be a fair trial, winning the PCH/lottery, appealing, etc., But, I have to grow up and face the music.  

Everything comes to an end at some point. We're all going to die someday so why not today? Today is as good as any other day to die. It's best not to leave a suicide note for insurance purposes. That way, life insurance will pay for the funeral. If they knew you committed suicide, they'd make your legal guardian pay for the funeral, so this is for the best. No more eating (that's the hard part), take two pills every hour on the hour (including during the night) until your dead. Two pills. Two pills. Probably should've gotten a DNR first, but it'll be ok, because you'll be DOA by tomorrow, if this works. If not, you're back in the looney bin which has the worst food on the face of the Earth.  

“Suicide is what happens when the pain becomes greater than the ability to cope with the pain.” If you ask Sierri for help committing suicide, it'll just give you a suicide prevention hotline who won't help you commit suicide. But, you did your homework, studied anatomy and physiology, and this should work. You have to aim jumping off buildings, you have to aim with a gun, but this should work. This should work. You sure hope it will or you'll be totally fucked.