Concorde
Member
- Nov 19, 2025
- 11
I just made my purchase 
and I am going to bask in this comfort. I might be uncomfortable, big picture. But fuck that. With some SN, I have more control over my life than I have ever had before. I can't believe I might be close to done.
Unsurprisingly, though, I'm starting to get scared. I'm starting to feel guilty about my partner who lost his best friend this year. I'm starting to wonder how many passwords and to which services/websites I share. I feel like I would like to tell just one person. Alternatively, I wouldn't mind sending a calendar invite to an actual going-away party at a restaurant of my choosing. If I had any other terminal condition (besides this inability to endure more garbage, pain, disappointment, humiliation, empathy-on-a-fucked-planet), a going-away dinner is exactly what I would do. I'd invite many, although due to my disinterest in almost all long-term relationships, I'm in regular contact with only my partner, my ex, and my stepparent. They cut my assigned hours at a job I am approximately 374928734 times overqualified for, and at which I deal with people who don't consider me a person because I'm not in their caste, and which I was given only after two years of unemployment, and only after Starbucks and the grocery store wouldn't hire me. I don't have it in me to return to submitting multiple resumes and cover letters every day. I can't return to a more severe and scarier form of poverty. I just can't. That cut in assigned time was perhaps the final straw. Just. No. And if life is hanging on by only one last final straw, then it's gone already. So I imagine that I will have some sort of convo with the partner after my package arrives. Something like "so, remember when you have said 'if only there was a way to buy fentanyl off the street also be certain it would do the job and also only after [my partner's parent] dies'? Well, I can't tell you where, but I have such a drug. I need to leave this [not sure here but something like:] world/you/my disappointing and intricately broken garbage life behind". If only it were cancer instead of SN. Everyone else, I'm fine with saying nothing. I have begun to draft notes. I don't want to leave the world with more pain. All the letters ensure the recipients that there was nothing they could have done differently. For a few people, I feel like I might owe them the assurance by a live call before during which I say just that. I don't know. I also would feel this same relief that I just got from my purchase if EVERYONE ELSE ON EARTH suddenly disappeared or if I were stuck on a desert island. Perhaps it's just the part about trying to feed and house myself with so little money that is unbearable. But no doubt, this world is not big enough for me over here and you 8 billion over there.
and I am going to bask in this comfort. I might be uncomfortable, big picture. But fuck that. With some SN, I have more control over my life than I have ever had before. I can't believe I might be close to done.
Unsurprisingly, though, I'm starting to get scared. I'm starting to feel guilty about my partner who lost his best friend this year. I'm starting to wonder how many passwords and to which services/websites I share. I feel like I would like to tell just one person. Alternatively, I wouldn't mind sending a calendar invite to an actual going-away party at a restaurant of my choosing. If I had any other terminal condition (besides this inability to endure more garbage, pain, disappointment, humiliation, empathy-on-a-fucked-planet), a going-away dinner is exactly what I would do. I'd invite many, although due to my disinterest in almost all long-term relationships, I'm in regular contact with only my partner, my ex, and my stepparent. They cut my assigned hours at a job I am approximately 374928734 times overqualified for, and at which I deal with people who don't consider me a person because I'm not in their caste, and which I was given only after two years of unemployment, and only after Starbucks and the grocery store wouldn't hire me. I don't have it in me to return to submitting multiple resumes and cover letters every day. I can't return to a more severe and scarier form of poverty. I just can't. That cut in assigned time was perhaps the final straw. Just. No. And if life is hanging on by only one last final straw, then it's gone already. So I imagine that I will have some sort of convo with the partner after my package arrives. Something like "so, remember when you have said 'if only there was a way to buy fentanyl off the street also be certain it would do the job and also only after [my partner's parent] dies'? Well, I can't tell you where, but I have such a drug. I need to leave this [not sure here but something like:] world/you/my disappointing and intricately broken garbage life behind". If only it were cancer instead of SN. Everyone else, I'm fine with saying nothing. I have begun to draft notes. I don't want to leave the world with more pain. All the letters ensure the recipients that there was nothing they could have done differently. For a few people, I feel like I might owe them the assurance by a live call before during which I say just that. I don't know. I also would feel this same relief that I just got from my purchase if EVERYONE ELSE ON EARTH suddenly disappeared or if I were stuck on a desert island. Perhaps it's just the part about trying to feed and house myself with so little money that is unbearable. But no doubt, this world is not big enough for me over here and you 8 billion over there.
