I should preface this with I do not have suicidal thoughts.
But I do, in fact, think about my death a lot.
For example, if I had a stroke right now, packing shit up and stressing out, if I had a stroke right now, I'd die. And nobody in the world would care.
My body would lie slumped over this laptop, drooling on the keyboard. And a stroke would be a horrible way to die alone, being paralyzed and unable to call for help. And then just knowing my mind would run through all my sins and would focus on myself.
And that's how they'd find me. My little brother, probably. Slumped over and half naked and decaying.
And nobody would miss me. I'm part of nobody's life. The funeral would be sparse. Nobody would even leave flowers at my tombstone after the first year.
Makes me wonder why I bother going on.