Late nights, I get crazy. The idea of suicide is genuinely arousing. And I plan it- about eighty percent of the fun is in planning. It's my destination: nothing really matters as long as I get there. And I think I'm in a bit of a rush, but thats okay- whoever said rushing was wrong, I mean, other than "God", haha. But death seems so peaceful and resolute. I can't wait to find out whats on the other side, if there another side. Is the grass really greener ? Theres no war at heart, thats good, but theres no love either, thats bad. So do things even out or is apathy worse ? Here, it seems like the bad out weighs the good, so maybe death is better....