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I thought about killing myself today. I stared at the medicine cabinet for at least 10 minutes while i was getting ready for work. My therapist says i am not to be trusted around pharmaceuticals maybe he is right. I mean i take 4 pills of ibuprofen when i feel the tiniest microscopic tingle on my body. That says i am not scared of the consequences i just want the pain to seize. 

I remember when i was younger i feared death. I had the fear of going away for of eternity to a place unknown. I had a fear of going to some place i was going to hate and think about my past life. I thought of what would happen if my family didn’t come with me.

I was terrified.

I used to despise death, i used to loathe it. I used to loathe the times death would be on my mind. I spent my days fighting hard trying to suppress thoughts about death but now i see that i didn’t quite fully understand death and i might never comprehend its whole entity. Sometimes things need to come to end so does life. Sometimes some things are not meant be, i’d like to think of still-borns and young infants as lost souls on a journey. Sometimes i think there is actually a wonderful beginning from where it all ends. 

I think of death as a place so welcoming, warm, filled with flowers and all sorts of magical creatures. Rivers and lakes flowing and full with glistening water. Pastures so green. Plants of all colors looking like nature’s painting.

Perhaps as a person, who has that calming effect. With love so tender and skin that feels just like the inside of a rose.

When i am alone for too long i think about death, i think about going there and leaving this world and its problems behind. I think about meeting Death on a long windy path. 

But then i wait, i wait for Death to come get me regardless of my impatience to visit or see her.

Loved ones listen to me carefully, when i die put my body in an orange suit, orange from head to toe.

Orange jacket, orange blouse, orange painted talons, orange tussle earrings and orange pants. Don’t let me wear shoes. Tie my bohemian locs with an orange ribbon.

Have my lovers say good things about me. Have my children say good things of me. Let everyone drink merrily. Blast my favorite songs from the rooftops and share your favorite stories of me. Talk about the good and the bad. And when it’s all said and done have one last look at me before my body is disintegrated by the coroner’s hot flames. Let my children keep my ashes in an orange urn and when they are ready let them scatter my ashes on the sandy beaches of Saint Tropez. 

Don’t be sad because i will be in a place i have always wanted to visited that i failed to go despite all the money i have accumulated over the years.

Trust that i will be in a better place.