text: The audacity. I had peacefully made my exit, and all these cretins had "things to say" about my choice. I hated those asinine articles when I was alive... "So and so did \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_, sparking debate." So self-important were these lazy internet debaters. Because I gave a fuck what they argued about? It was my life, my choice. Another thing I absolutely hated to hear was "human life is valuable" and "suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” Even now, without a body, I gag at the stupidity. A permanent solution, you say? That was the point. Who ever had a problem they agonized to solve, and went, “You know, I’m glad it’s solved, but I hope it comes back so I have to solve it again.” No one. Dumb fucks. Or the narc special: "Suicide is illeeEegaAAaal.” Ok, karens. So arrest me. Can't reach me in the ethers now can you?! I was already without the loves of my life, they were free. I wanted to be free, too. And what was the point of continuing to live only to keep enduring the multitude of idiotic human concepts that existed on earth. Like: The attempted legislation of all that was natural and instinctual, for one thing. Everything was illegal. Everything had a statute attached to it. Shit, I couldn’t even talk or write about killing myself without getting the dogs sicced on me. Not that I had followed any laws when it came to my own body or nature itself, but everything is still “ illegal” on earth, I’m just glad I’m not alive to be bothered by it anymore. If only all the remaining humans knew they could also free themselves from the encroachment. Whether in life, or in death. And the fact that cults existed - like christianity, government, and all the others. And the fact that they all got away with unnatural abuses on humanity, but defending yourself and fighting back could have lead to your death or punishment just because of the many whims of weak people. The fact that wars existed - and over nothing. All conflict was unnecessary. The list of stupid things and limitations that we had in those human bodies was endless. But despite being an observer to all that merde, I had had a pretty good life. And even if I hadn't, what was it to anyone else?! As if I needed to justify why I wanted to die. It wasn’t my problem that others weren’t so lucky to live as I had lived. I had been born for the simple yet cosmic fate of experiencing the greatest love ever known and I had been completed. The universe had provided my nuclii. And I couldn’t live more moments on earth without them physically there with me. Everyone there aspired to material achievements and trying to find “the one”, or multiple “ones.” Always seeking something or someone unattainable because they didn’t know true love, self-, or otherwise. As divine entities trapped in a physical meat bag, they just didn’t get it. They were lost. The world offered nothing more but to keep living for the sake of experiencing another thing, another moment, and another, with no end in sight. I didn't need that. While the physical wonders and pleasures of life were worth having indulged in, they were nothing to attain. Everything that ever was and would be, I already had and was. I already knew that in the depths of my being before I ever left my human body behind. But it was hilarious to observe the world, now that I had escaped that form. In my final days, I had left behind a note in my empty house before I disappeared. The gist was basically what I’m sharing now: I was over that stupid world, wanted better things, and that this was not foul play. Of course they had no proof. I disappeared every trace of myself one way or another. And none of it led to me, or where my body would be left. But the landlord that found the note took a picture and posted it online, unsure if it was a hoax. Of course it went viral. Everyone wanted to speculate. For a while, people thought it was a myth. Figured someone was only trolling them. But as more and more self-proclaimed investigators tried to find out the truth, they were left more confused. What a messed up joke for someone to play, they thought. If I was living still, I would have pulled up some snacks and watched them argue. They were so desperate for answers. So pathetic. Did she do drugs? Was she sick? How could someone do this? She should have gotten help! She was so selfish! This is an insult to those with terminal illness that wish they could live longer! If this is a joke, it’s even more fucked up! Ugh. The list went on and on. But for all the arguing and interloping themselves in my business, they would never be able to control my narrative. All the debates and laws in the world would never be able to change or stop what I did. Nothing they could ever do would anticipate another suicide, or be able to control the will of those of us that were strong enough to let go of those worldy attachments, and initiate whatever destiny we wanted. That type of freedom could never exist in their tiny minds. Some of us weren’t in a pain that could be solved by inspirational quotes or time. It wasn’t that we couldn't find a reason to live. It’s that we had already fulfilled our reason to live. I was ready to move on into an eternal form that didn’t reside in a world where you’d spent moments of your infinite experience doing something as idiotic as standing in line at a make-believe government building to pay for physical rights we innately possessed. The world was whack. And as an outsider now, it was very satisfying to see them scramble. They would say there was no such thing as the perfect “crime.” But I proved them all wrong. It would take someone purposefully going all the way to where I found my patch of earth to find my decroded skeleton. But I had left nothing to lead them to it. Years later, they still hadn’t found the body. I hadn’t planned all this just to have some internet or police trolls think they could ever find me, or understand my true reasons unless they could comprehend life as being something beyond human life. In time, being passed over for the next fad, I was quietly forgotten, just as I had wanted. My death was the greatest act I ever committed. It was perfection. My magnum opus: I died relatively healthy and young. Physically strong. No addictions (for those that thought they could put me in The 27 Club). No enemies. No debt. For all intents and purposes, if people had seen my life and finances before-hand, their narrow minds would have been dumbfounded as to why I wanted to die. No drama. Nothing that anyone could ever logically foresee. I was just done. I had experienced everything I wanted and was ready for what was next. And that killed them. Not literally, of course - unfortunately for them. They could have been existing peacefully without the fear of death or the need to survive. It made no sense that they feared physical death and thought trying to convince others to live would make them impervious to the inevitable. That it would somehow affect their perceived “salvation.” Ridiculous. The only reason I didn’t go sooner was because while I was planning out the perfect way to go, I had to wait for my connection to deliver on our deal. It had been a long waiting period while they sourced the pill I wanted. A quick and painless end. I remember when I finally had that tiny packet in my hand. I was excited that my end was truly nigh! Once I took that pill, I would be gone in minutes. I happily handed my vendor their money - the best $10,000 I ever spent on earth. “Peace be the journey,” they said. Indeed it would be. That’s what I wished people could have understood. The beauty of it all. We didn’t get to choose our birth, but if only people realized how liberating it was to choose our death. As soon as I had the pill in my possession, the clock truly started. It was summer. I had chosen to leave in my favorite season. At the tail end - with waning heat, and cooler afternoons leading into the still-sunny evening. I had planned everything down to the hour I wanted it to happen. Thinking it would be romantic to die on my birthday. In the late afternoon. Since I had already gotten rid of most of my belongings, closed all accounts, and deleted all evidence of my life, all that was left to do was simply enjoy the final month of my life, indulging in all my “lasts”: the many physical pleasures I wanted to experience before my adieu. Enjoyed all the decadent foods. Had amazing sex. Danced with great partners. Listened to, and felt beautiful music. Hiked amazing natural landscapes. Breathed in the fresh air. I attended every concert, event, and activity I wanted. Talked to many new people and old friends, heard their stories, laughed with them. Did anything to induce the adrenaline rushes I so enjoyed when I was alive. Enjoyed smoking sativas and doing shrooms, and escaping into the infinite mind that I would soon live in forever - finally boundless. And I had found a perfect spot for my final resting place. So remote, that no one would ever just "happen" upon my body --at least not until it was way too late. No one ever found it or had to clean up a “crime scene” for my sake. The spot I designated was somewhat hidden. Perfect for my body to disintegrate and become part of the earth. If there's one thing I didn't want, it was anyone manhandling me or hosting any type of burial or stupid memorial talking about "everyone loved her" and "she would have loved this.” No. I never wanted eulogizers waxing nostalgic about the person they never really knew. Taking a moment in the spotlight to express their feelings. All those worthless words just for show. For emotional clout. It was about me and only me. After that indulgent last month, I woke up on my final birthday with more motivation than I ever had for anything in life outside of being with my family. I genuinely felt excited to start the day, knowing that by the end of it, I would no longer be around. That day, I ate the last foods my body most enjoyed. Reminisced and laughed joyously at the beautiful memories of the loves of my life that were waiting for me. Then, by the afternoon I had gotten myself an untraceable ride up to the last checkpoint. The last time any human would see me alive. And from there, a lone journey to my secret place. I made it to the top. I looked far and wide at the beautiful mountainous forest my body was about to join. Then I hiked to the spot where I had previously dug out a space to lie down in. I’d cover myself with dirt and leaves and be mostly hidden in nature by the time it was all over. Once I reached it, I opened a small pack I had brought with me. All it contained was a small water bottle, my pill, and a tiny speaker to play my final song. I put them next to the place I would rest in. I sat down and looked around for an hour, breathing the world in deeply, that trademark petrichor. The rich inhalations of the mix of live foliage and all the fallen leaves surrounding me. And the smell of pine. Mm. Those five senses had served me well in my lifetime. As I took in the beauty of that world one last time, I wondered at all the creative energy that made up this marvelous universe. I sighed, then reached over to put the pill in my mouth, took one last refreshing drink of water to help it down, and I lied back. Next to me, I pushed play on the tiny speaker. Andrea Bocelli started singing Con te partirò. I smiled up at the trees and the clear sky above me. The birds chirped in the distance. Life would go on for those that remained. How beautiful it was to have lived. How beautiful to have loved, and been loved so truly. The only thing that had made that physical life bearable. And in that moment, a rush of knowingness coursed through my body. The last intuition I would feel in that form: the body’s physiological fear of death - of this great leap into an unknown I couldn’t possibly fathom. But in all my preparation for that day, I had mentally and emotionally subdued that primal fear. I did nothing to fight it. And my body followed. I felt the tinge of what my body knew to be the end - the last feeling to be felt - the certainty of my own undoing - only moments away from shutting down entirely. I took a deep breath and let it out long and slowly as I ran my fingers through the dirt next to me, grabbed fistfuls of it one last time, felt the soft dustiness of earth, and I let it go. "Time's finally up,” I smiled. A waterfall of tears suddenly ran down the outside corners of my eyes. I felt myself momentarily between a laugh and a sob. Looking forward to my family, I said "I love you" one last time with that voice. They heard it. I felt them pulling me to them in the ethers. By the final bridge of the song, it seemed that nature all around me had orchestrated a cool breeze, and the rustling of trees just for me. A farewell. The wind flowing through my hair. A soft sensation on my face. I smiled so peacefully looking up at the sky, feeling the darkness start to close in around me. Andrea was singing the final “Io con te” to accompany my last breath. My eyes fluttered as I drifted away, all tension left my body and I felt my frame relax into the earth. Weight no longer my own. I was finally free. And then I closed my eyes forever.