Suicidal Fantasies

In the mire of my terminal depression and deep alienation i have sick fantasies
I fantasise a myriad of ways i could kill myself
I envision slashing my wrists having a tsunami of blood spraying on the walls
Seeing my body seething in pain with a profusion of blood in a grisly end to a pathetic lamentable life

There are other dark visions of my untimely demise
I think about overdosing on a pernicious cocktail of opiates
Seeing my body drift away into permanent slumber into the vast nothingness
To end this torture of being alive being afflicted with a daily onslaught of anxiety and suicidal depression

The most preferable manner of suicide I have surmised is a slow hanging
I want the pain I want to suffer in a final cat of brutal machoism
First i will lacerate my body with a multitude of wounds then i will hang from my ceiling
I want to die slowly with the final minutes listening to ethereal classical music to send me off

I imagine not being discovered for weeks possible months
As my corpse rots with my body only being discovered by neighbours with the pungent odour of my decaying body
My end will be even sadder as it will highlight the depths of my alienation my isolation
This is how foresee dying and being found by a neighbour or a distant friend who will be horrified by the macabre scene of my flat asa my gnarled decomposing body is hanging from the ceiling after months leaving behind only a succinctly worded suicide note

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