Living life on the floor and having said Fuck It is interesting. I'm near my front door so I can watch my bird feeder. I saw this cute little bird hanging upside down from the wire, waiting for the beautiful red bird to finish eating, then he swooped on down.
Birds and squirrels and chipmunks all get along on my front porch. They respect each other, no squabbles, and the human species should be embarrassed.
I have a pretty good setup here on the floor. Vodka, water and ice are within reach. No food, but that's good, limit the amount of shit I will eventually be laying in. I have my TV clicker here so I can watch it until I can't.
My 77 years of life is replaying itself in my head. Memories that I had long forgotten are popping back up in full HDR.
And the underlying emotions are regret and sadness. What a wasted life! I deserve to be laying on the floor waiting to pass on, to whatever...
To all of the people I loved, and loved me back, Thank You! To all of the people that I hurt and disappointed, I'm so sorry...
Inserting the shotgun into my mouth now, finger on the trigger!
Ok, maybe not... I'm not really laying on the floor, nor am I suicidal. But if I was, this would be my final post.
btw: Three people take their own lives every day here in Tennessee...