"Let's just do it, let's just kill ourselves." she says from the bathroom, the bathtub. It echoes in your head, before a response can be processed..."let's get high one last time and drown, it'll be easy, and we'll be together."
That was years ago, I'm still on this plane, so is she, though hundreds of miles separate us.
Death? It sounds so scary, so final. Once you've died a few times, you get the hang of it. Death and sex are the only things that drive someone. In the greater sense, everything is death and sex. Generally speaking, you're seeking one and trying to avoid the other. Some of us have crossed circuits and they flip. But then intellect mixed with tried and true habitual behavior, makes this easy to understand. Even orgasm, is "little death" translated.
Build your society, deity, work, exercise, social behavior is starting to be lost on me all together.
This is unfinished. I'm tired of typing after three somewhat identical pieces for one morning.