Turns out

it was really lack of practice
rather than sadness

Power

I don't, however, know for sure how 'depressing' the fact, that I derive some of the greatest comfort from ending my own life, is.

Shouldn't there be a 'cheerier' way to restore faith in having control over ... life?

Hiding in plain sight

Maybe I'm unhappy, because I'm tired and my fatigue is ultimately due to my laziness. The best way I know how to fix this is by sleeping, but right now I don't feel tired enough to sleep and have dreams about French airports and misplaced luggage and buying pear marmelade packed in plastic pumpkins that you can find at shopping malls hidden beneath the subway; running and trying to find the words to express myself in French and that obnoxious girl from school standing naked across the room explaining how good pornography is made.

I wish these months passed by faster...