I didn’t think that when I killed myself I would have become a martyr. Didn’t think that hundreds upon thousands of people would replicate my journey and exit from stage left. Delusions of grandeur weren’t exactly on my mind when I committed suicide, more so the opposite if the truth be told. When you book a one-way flight to Arlington, Texas (because one to Houston is out of your price range) and then go to the first gun range that you can find, set yourself at ease in a booth, place the cold steel barrel of the CZ 75B semi-automatic 9mm pistol into your mouth, making sure to angle it so that the back of your head will soon resemble a blooming poppy, you don’t necessarily think this is going to become some kind of universal trend.
This should absolutely have more likes. I enjoyed reading it.