Death

There are many ways to die. And indeed there is some peace in having a choice, to some degree, about how we approach the point of death.

Perhaps it is our only point.
Sleeping is the commas.
Each one is a sentence
in this newest chapter:
Life on Earth.

I was thinking about suicide this morning...
bathroom article.
Science News describes how, even so distressing as it may be for some, the bereaved do benefit from seeing the body.
...of a loved-one.
Yeah...
like, even if its "badly damaged" or "beginning to decompose!"
Apparently solidifying this new forever-absence of someone allows the living to move on.
Psychologically.
That's pretty cool.

As I then tried to imagined my own (hypothetical) suicide, a hope arose that I would have consideration enough to just disappear instead of leaving a mess.

I am all for living as long as possible. But some folks, they seem to lose the will to ramble on and decide to make a splashing point, and their point gets all over the walls and carpet or jellies up sidewalk. Not only is this UNBELIEVABLY inconsiderate , it's a waste of a potential extension of your life.

If one morning you're just gone, and no one gets to see your body, you will live on in the minds of those who wonder, as a question... "whatever happened to old so-and-so?" maybe you'll become a legend, someday fabled to return. What an awesome immortality!

...instead of "Oh him? He killed himself. Yah, I had to clean it up! what an ashole. So, you gettin' lunch later?"

Too much sun will kill you.