sketches

These are sketches found in a drawer of John's desk. They are the closest we got to finding a suicide note.

I've got a good job,
I've got friends,
I'm healthy,
I'm young,
I am not poor,
Not hearbroken,
I've got no reason to do this,
I don't feel any existential pain or agony,

Apart from the ingrown toenail maybe.

I've got everything I need -
Almost,
Something is missing, however
I've got no clue,
I guess I have to go
And search some other place to find it.

I get my coat.

Life's a bitch and then you die and it's over.
I'll skip the bitch and proceed immediately.

Happiness is a warm gun.
Let good barrels smoke.

I'm breeding like a pig
Skinning myself over and over again
I produce ceaselessly
Growing hair
Gaining weight
Sweating
Breathing in
And out
Pissing
Crapping
Jerking off sperm
My cells are dieing every second
And they keep reproducing themselves
I can hear them grow
There is constant construction work going on.
But nothing ever happens.
It's leading nowhere
Nowhere

Death, thou shalt not be proud.
I fuck you in the ass.