One more pill

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

To know that all it takes is one more nudge to end everything you are is a feeling humans seek in the form of skydiving or dirt biking. Choosing to see everything you have destrioed turn to black as your eye's close for the final time is something of beauty if looked at in the right light. The final light if you wanted to be amusing. Maybe doing enough wrong is the only reason ending your own life is the right way to ease the pain.

One more pill

 

This is usually how it all starts. With a quick swallow and a gulp of water. Today started out as any other day I suppose. I woke up and had my morning cup of Joe whilst smoking a cigarette. Yet somehow nine in a half hours later I find myself taking very frequent breaks to throw another unknown, chalk flavored pill down my throat. Though I still haven't pinned down a real reason for ending up in this most unsavory turn of events I am sure that my selfish knack for getting out work will be my (go-to) for the blame game.

 

Knowing that writing is ninety-nine percent sitting in front of a blank slat just hoping that the words can flow at some point, while the other small part actually involves being inspired enough for something to actually do the writing itself. I used to think I came full term with that agreement but certain recent events have proven otherwise. When deciding to become a writer you have to know that money is the proverbial “dragon” that just can not be caught. Even more so if you have a little girl to provide for. In which case fucking selfish I am.

 

Once upon a sober time things were very much different. You might even say perfect if you wanted a name for it. I can remember being a young Internet sensation who's written opinions were not only relevant but demanded by “the hip” websites who have now sold out to top ten list and reviews of movies that everyone and their blind cat has already seen enough times to be a glorified critic. Rather it was regurgitating a few columns for some independent new website or helping Cracked out with a very opinionated discussion on which super hero would win a fight.

 

I can also remember being a young novelist that took the literary world by storm and fucked my way into some elite-ish parties all while playing my role as a degenerate young word smith who happen to have a taste for the drug, booze , and loose women lifestyle that comes with any amount of fame. Looking back now I guess writing more than one thought provoking novel with a couple swear words and violent drug use would have panned out better for my loosely chosen career path.

 

Fast forward to just a year and two months later here I am. Jotting down the babble that is now stopping me from consuming these vaguely colored pills before me. One could even say that this is the only reason I am alive right now. In fact six feet behind me I can hear my daughter snuggled up in my bed , having her little baby dreams and not knowing that her father has endured enough pain for the both of us. Taking into consideration that I have officially backed myself into a corner is heart breaking enough , but throwing the sheer thought of my daughter growing up with out me is the reason a grin hits my cheeks each time I picture my comatose body being lowered in the ground.

 

The ironic part for this whole fucked up story that is my life is I find “re-leaving yourself of all worldly duties” is a pussy and selfish move to make in the first place. I never really did picture me being one to take my own life , though it is too late now I would correct it if I could. Thinking further I feel guilty for choosing this path to travel down. It's amazing how ten minuets can fly by and other times it will take an entire generation. I'm not sure what is on the other side of this brief existence but knowing that I am only moments from finding out is ; for lack of a better word “exciting”!

 

We have certain moments we wish we could go back to and intervene to change the course but when that moment happens to be several years of less then productive choices and terrible decision making is all but unsettling because I have nothing or no one to blame. As childish as that may seem I guess I do secretly wish that I could throw the weight of blame into someone else's lap. Maybe that goes back to the quote “There is nothing more honest than a dying man”. Perhaps that isn't the case here, maybe knowing that in two weeks everything in my life is getting torn down is the perfect excuse to come clean on an emotional stand point.

 

Now to the point of closure. Something I can proudly say I have never been the best at. I do however know that my last moments on this planet will be spent cuddling my little girl and taking her warm touch with me to the afterlife as a face what may very well be “Hell”. I guess that's why I have called my daughter my angel. My dark life and shadowing sense of judgment is only counter balanced by her sweet smile and the memories I have been fortunate enough to make with her. I can only hope that she understands I love her very much and I want nothing but happiness for her until the day we meet again in some other form rather than humanity.

 

The only way I can think to end this is by saying that I love my daughter. Also being said I love the fact that life was filled with gut busting moments that wouldn't go away even with a bullet to the brain. Taking back nothing and leaving even less I will let those around me to their own devices. I have messed up enough down here , so I plan to see what I can fuck up elsewhere. Sweet dreams children and make sure the sky is not the limit... but to go even further is your real goal.

 

~ Brandon Bilinski

 


Submitted: November 13, 2014

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