Of course with suicide, there are reflections of death. I don't know if that dream was really a reflection of how I would react if some psychotic was about to kill me. But the feeling was really chilling.

I visualize suicides I've seen in movies. Putting a gun in the mouth, back of the skull blown off with brain matter flying, splattering. Animate, alive, one moment, then off; click...off...gone. Inanimate. Dead. A whole life came before that moment, and that's the culmination. What was Kurt Cobain feeling in his blood?

Or being executed. Archival film from WWII of Jews lined up, kneeling next to a mass grave as a Nazi officer one by one goes down the line shooting each in the head. What do you feel? You are a life, you had a whole life before this moment, and this is how it ends? This is the final value? Killed in cold blood. The killer with no regard about what he was doing.

What's the big deal about these thoughts? Well, I guess I am being overly dramatic, and most of us hope to go out peacefully at a wrinkly ripe old age after a long lingering disease.

As for me, I just want to keep it close. Focus on consciousness and the end of this particular existence. Focus on body and it being lifeless, preferably without anybody having to deal with it. Focus on brain, this incredible wonder of nature, nestled in this skull that I call mine, having no meaning.

I don't want to say I'm near my breaking point, because I think I'm already way beyond it. I feel I've made my decision and I'm just looking at execution. And if my liver isn't beyond the point of no return, I already am. I really don't want to just cruise on like this for much longer.

East of Raohe night market area. Nikon N70, Kodak BW400CN, 1/250 sec.

ISO 200, red filter. Old subject matter.