Dear, The Living.
I'm still alive, for now, I will die in the next hour or so. I'm not good at writing, it's always been Mulki and Vida's things to arrange words in such manner that it holds meaning for those who read them. And I'm writing this in a rush, I can't wait to be dead.
First of all, there have been so much meaningful years for me to live and share things together with you guys. I can't count how much time we spent, how much air we breathe in together, how much the content of our stomachs pouring onto the ground when we're so hammered that we don't know how to nail it (life). There will be nothing to express my thanks and gratefulness for that. Just know that I'm really thankful and grateful for that.
Secondly, I've been thinking so many ways to go and now I've chosen one; train. I think it's a beautiful way to go; the trembling ground when that long chain of metal's coming, the screeching sound of its horn that often scares Linda, and maybe finally the impact of it and my head. Yes, head first so I can get rid of this headache before I go, or as I go. My head hurts so much, might as well explode it by kissing the face of a train.
Thirdly, it's not your fault, not any of you. I've been battling so hard, and 'warrior never gives up' is such a bullshit. I give up. There's only so much I can keep inside my head, and this is the end of it. Fucking demons and angels, fucking hardships and beautiful memories, they're there battling for so long that they hurt me; even the good things. I know you guys have your own war inside each of your heads, and maybe my death will be an extra little war in the corner of them; but I give up, I must.
Fourth thing is, there's a box above the cupboard in our kitchen. Inside it, you'll find my gun, my knife, and 5 little joints. Please keep the gun and the knife, they're hard to come by, and for the joints; smoke them and please light mine up. Have a little last laugh ... and let me go.
Last but not least, I love you. I love you all.
xx March xx13
The Dead, xxsha.
