Spectacular
an excerpt

Sometimes I wish I could reinvent myself. Walk away from this shallow shell of a life and be something totally different. I decided long ago that suicide wasn’t an option for me, because things always get better, right? (Mostly.-N.) I had thought of it often when I was a depressed teenager, but then when I left home I was happy again, then so lonely I was depressed again, then I fell in love and was happy again and then fell out of love and was miserable again. You surely have heard that cliché – It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Well, I agree, but mostly I think that you never know what life has in store for you and I wasn’t going to let that fucker get the best of me, you know what I’m saying? I mean even if you are in a horrible dead end job with a ridiculously boring existence that didn’t mean the next day you weren’t going to win the lotto, or be discovered by a talent agency or meet the love of your life, or find a new hobby, or at least find twenty bucks on the street. If life was going to give you something cool, but you missed it because you had whacked your own self, that would suck really bad. I mean, so would dying of a heart attack when you found out you won the lottery, but that’s the kind of screwed up shit that happens. I guess on the other hand you could say there is a certain dignity in doing things your own way at your own time, when you’ve decided you’ve had enough. I’m certainly not a preacher and I wouldn’t dream of sticking my nose into someone else’s personal hell and personal decision. I’m not a right to lifer hypocrite. But for myself, I’m not going to do it. As I said, I refuse to let that fucker win.