They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice… that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person. – Arthur Schopenhauer
In the end, we die alone.
No one wants to listen to the last words of a dying black woman, dying a slow torturous death.
In many ways, I wish I was never born then I would never reach the point of understanding my life was a waste and suffer so in the end.
It sounds like self-pity and probably is on some level. On a conscious level, I’m cold. My fingers are numb, and my thinking is not clear. Not sure if being cold does that. When I warm up, I’ll look it up.
I have oil for warm showers which are vital to me. But I don’t want to turn the furnace on knowing the dampers have been shot, and several HVAC people have tampered with them. Not that I am suspicious of malicious intent, I don’t trust them to value my life and not put it at risk in the house after playing with dampers and the HVAC.
Why should I care if I’m dying? I just don’t want the house to blow up and damage neighboring property. If I’m going to die in this house, I would like it to be a peaceful death. The basement with exposed electrical wires and water etc. is a fire triangle if heat and fuel were added but maybe not. I don’t think they reinstalled the smoke detectors or checked the carbon monoxide detector for that furnace. I’ll have to check when it warms up later.
I really should let go. What will be, will be!
Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men [and women]. – Herodotus
My thoughts, #Mythoughts, is a where I work through life problems.