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I feel dejected, morose and miserable

but I’ve found my destiny. 

I want to be a manic depressive with a smack habit.

I want to write as much as I can.

I want to pour my heart out. 

I only want to shoot up a few times

till I learn how to end it all with that final shot.

I want to be romantic about it. 

I want to walk right on into oblivion

with my arms open wide. 

I will greet death with all the enthusiasm

of a small child on Christmas eve. 

It is my destiny to be this way.

It is my right to choose.

Free will!

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