THIS IS YOUR LIFE - A tribute piece to Fight Club and society as a whole - A GUIDE TO KILLING YOURSELF IN 50 YEARS

SEPTEMBER 26TH, 2018 - this is your life - A Tribute piece to "Fight Club" and society as a whole.

I am sitting here, in my usual spot, a glass of water is on the table next to me.

I start to write, listening to a soundtrack video from YouTube, "Fight Club - This is your life", it reminds me of things, my life as a whole, I almost gave up.

Well, I did give up, drinking enough alcohol to kill a normal man, I wanted to die, to fly free of this earth, if it was possible, or just be worm food.

There is nothing wrong with being worm food, it's the ending product of worm poop that is the real bitch.

The why I will get into later, but it was the why that really fucked, pardon my French, me up beyond belief, took me down a dark and dangerous road.

I had relations with women without the benefit of marriage.

I know, a true sin indeed, a sin that would lead me down the road to Satan.

So here I am, today, a broken man, but still alive and well and still waiting for the worms.

This is not a seminar, this is not a piece to help you, the reader, to figure out your shit.

If you want to figure that out, you may want to go find another blog, a blog full of beautiful flowers and trees and happy clouds and a guy named Steve painting water buffaloes screwing monkeys in a tree.

This is not a necessarily negative piece, but, it does tell the truth --- life is hard, tougher to live than to just say fuck it.

The only reason why I haven't killed myself is for other people in my life, they'd be sad, if you're still alive, it probably means someone - a friend, a child, a water buffalo and a monkey fucking in a tree, etc. - means something to you.

So here you sit, reading my blog, wondering if you hit DELETE HISTORY, will prevent your wife from discovering that you are sad, ready to end it all, searching Google for ways to kill yourself to make it look like an accidental death so your life insurance will pay off.

Don't worry, everyone in their life has had that thought, thinking about just faking their own death.

I have.

I worked on a river boat casino on the Ohio River. I stood on the deck and stared into the water, muddy and full of piss, and thought, "I could do this, I could end it all, just make it look like I fell in, and disappeared into that muck, trapped below in the mud..."

But the truth is, I couldn't do it, again my wife, friends, etc. would be sad, even if they knew it was a ruse, a scam.

So here I sit, 9 o clock in the evening, writing, a random piece in some sense, a piece better fitted for another blog, where I am more serious but deciding that this blog needed something more than just fluff, it needed a human face to it.

I so I write.

I write, as an English Comp professor once told me to do, like no one is reading, like it's just you, typing out a letter to your future self.

Worry about confessions, not context, grammar, whether or not you'll publish it into a book length feature film starring Brad Pitt as your consciousnesses, yourself as a butterfly collector, but just as an exercise in futility, just write, and write till you cannot write another filthy word, go outside, look up into the night sky, then come back and write some more.

Just write.

I add the second rule.

"Then hit publish and let it go to the world, let them read your shit, those words, maybe someone out there will be inspired, not to die, but to live, to feel something, even if it is sadness and even if it is just for a moment in time, a second, to tell them, "YOU ARE NOT ALONE!! REJOICE!! AND BE FREE!!! LIVE!!"

Third rule --- hit delete after the piece has sat there for an hour.

Just kidding, the third rule is to remember, DO NOT TALK ABOUT WRITE CLUB!!!! Good night and have a better tomorrow!