most, if not all, people don't have the luxury to choose where they want to die. but even those in the minority, who do get to choose where they want to die, don't have the benefit of choosing how to die.

i'm happy to report that i'm in the extreme rare minority, who gets to choose where and how they get to die. i bet that from the picture you think i'm going to drown myself by slowly wading into the sea and breathing water into my lungs. how uninspired. and unoriginal.

please, i have better ways to go than merely drowning myself. i intend to make my last moments as beautiful, meaningful, and bloody as possible. the picture is of a walkway of rocks that lead to an ocean and i took it because this is life. we start our journey on solid ground only to peer off an edge of unknown depths. that's the beautiful part. metaphorical, no? it makes you wonder why we even bother to wait for death to come for us. if we're all heading for the unknown at some point in time, why not run headfirst into it? why delay the inevitable? don't you want to see what's over the edge?

this rock that we call life isn't as solid as we think. we think that what we see and know is worth clinging onto, but what's the point of clinging onto it when we're destined to let it slip past our grasps? what's the point of hearing a girl say to you, "i love you," when she'll leave you. what's the point of bathing in sunlight when one day we'll turn into the very dust that the rays of sunlight reveals on a spring cleaning day? what's the point of spring cleaning?

i want to cut myself open and bleed out into the depths of the ocean where my life will become one with the infinite mass that has swallowed up so many others. i want to drown in my own blood and sleep with the fishes, and let my soul pass from this known world into the next.

but most of all, i don't want to feel pain anymore, i don't want to remember Jenny Morrison anymore, i don't want to sit and smile about how she used to eat everything with chopsticks, and i don't want to hear my mother tell me her neo-Ku Klux Klan theory of how white girls should marry other white boys and how Korean boys should marry Korean girls, and i don't want to feel the anxiety i feel when Jenny is around her white guy friends who obviously want to date her and don't see me as any threat until they see her grab my hand at a random time like how she used to hold my hand whenever i'd have to type up a proposal letter, but i'd always let her hold it while i typed with one hand. i don't want to listen to more sermons about how Christians should do this and do that because then God would love us more. i don't want to hear Jenny tell me that God loves me no matter what because there's nothing i can do to please God. i don't want to hear Jenny say, "i love you unconditionally like God, and i won't leave you either." i don't want to think about those words as Jenny goes on a mission trip where she'll fall in love with a fellow team member, another white guy who loves Jesus, and i don't want to feel my heart being ripped open and torn to pieces as she emails me as a letter of finality that "she has grown and changed these past 2 weeks and feels that God is leading her in a different direction and can't be with someone who doesn't believe in God the same way she does." i don't want to cry and drink endless cases of Coors by myself watching 500 Days of Summer, throwing half-full cans at the television when Summer comes on screen. i don't want to feel unloved, loved, and then unloved again.

i want to walk down that rock pathway with nothing but a knife to send me off to the unknown. i want to die alone, i want to be the one who ends my life, not God, and i want to be added on the missing person report who no one ever finds. i want my mother to cry over me, abandon God, and then return to Him by going to 5 am prayer meetings every morning until she feels peace at losing her only son. i want my friends to pretend to mourn me and act like they can't go on until they say that "he would've wanted us to live our lives to the fullest," and use my death as an excuse to get drunk. i want the whole world to cry over losing a part-time proposal writer. i want the whole world to rejoice because i dramatically reduced my carbon footprint by starting a compost pile on my balcony. i want to be swallowed alive. i want to be reborn and to feel eternal joy and to live as life was supposed to be lived. i want there to be a Heaven and a hell because then i would know where i'm gong. i don't want to know where i'm going at all. the only thing i want to know is the unknown.

i want to experience the unknown because it hasn't hurt me yet.