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It was the way he just threw his body away.
“And do you think going someplace else is a positive or a negative method of coping?” He smiled weird. “Depends where I go.”
I thought I’d upset him, even though we’d only just been talking about Pokémon.
The myth is clean and sensical because it needs to be. The truth is stupid. The truth never makes sense unless you force it to, just like anything.
Because suicide goes on forever. The wrists always bleeding out. The feet always leaving the bridge. The rope always catching short. It never ever stops.
