Suicide Notes

I’m still kind of a mess. But I think we all are. No one’s got it all together. I don’t think you ever do get it totally together.

“You may think you’re fine, but you’re not.

Then we spray other crap around to try and make it smell better, like the whole planet is someone’s old car and we’ve hung this big pine-scented air freshener from the rearview mirror.

I know they’re hoping I’ll say something about why I did what I did. So for the record: I just felt like it.

And just because your life isn’t as awful as someone else’s, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “I’m just complicated.”

They move their mouths, but nothing important comes out.

“I am,” I said. “I’m the problem

“I am,” I said. “I’m the problem

There’s something inside you that you don’t want anyone to see.”