"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
Suicide. The radio station on the alarm clock starts buzzing. I wake up. Suicide. I never dream. My head struggles to catch up. Suicide. I walk to the kitchen. Make a coffee. Light a cigarette. I think it will wake me up. Suicide. Get dressed. Its cold outside. I have nervous sweats. Suicide. Got to get to work on time. At the train station. Still not awake. Suicide. Pay for a ticket. Cant spend too much money. Got to buy food with it. Suicide. Never read the free papers. They only lie to you. The rest of the people soak it up. Its all they have in the morning. Suicide. No one looks at you yet. They are faceless. Nameless. Nothing helps me wake up. Suicide. Arrive at work. I hate my job. No one respects you. Suicide. Computer finger print. One minute late. Get docked fifteen minutes. Thats about £2.50 from my hourly rate. No compassion. Suicide. Grab a walkie talkie. Walk to the doors. The frustration starts. I hate everyone now. Suicide. Some people say hello. I try and be polite and reciprocate. Dont want to show them fear. Suicide. Most dont greet me. They dont like me I guess. People start to look at me. Suicide. Its the vest. It looks bullet-proof. So they look. It just draws attention. Suicide. The anger subsides. it always does. Never enough to make a change. Suicide. I am bored. start to make jokes with passer bys. They dont get it. Suicide. Time to stay quiet. Dont care anymore. Sadness sets in. This cycles for the next 12 hours or so. Standing at the doors. Trying to catch thieves. I hate it. I cant bullshit my way through. Suicide.
