democritusjunior
New Member
- Apr 21, 2026
- 2
I'm sure my family or friends would be quite "accepting" in the event that my mind earns its triumph over my body; I'm also sure, however, that they'd be delighted in my suicide (assuming they learn of the mental illness with which I'm afflicted posthumously) before I sully their reputation with my "transition." Not to worry, either, on my end, because I wont die! Interred underneath a gravestone baring an alien name, will be some unfamiliar body—and that is all. Perhaps I'm deluded in believing in the noble suicides of Seneca and the like.
Sometimes I feel profound shame, living in a liberal state in a liberal country in an enlightened area of the world, for throwing away this rare opportunity, which other people of my ilk would love capitalize upon. But, half-acceptance, to me, is worse than nonacceptance; I can't handle the subtle embarrassment and the cheery smiles through gritted teeth. I'm sure I'm already unsettling and dangerous-seeming as a man, let alone some kind of perverted, freak of medicine. It's all unbearable and I'd very much like to die.
Sometimes I feel profound shame, living in a liberal state in a liberal country in an enlightened area of the world, for throwing away this rare opportunity, which other people of my ilk would love capitalize upon. But, half-acceptance, to me, is worse than nonacceptance; I can't handle the subtle embarrassment and the cheery smiles through gritted teeth. I'm sure I'm already unsettling and dangerous-seeming as a man, let alone some kind of perverted, freak of medicine. It's all unbearable and I'd very much like to die.