Knives and razors... kinda melodramatic, that sort of suicide. I've reserved a deathly foil of tar, and a tiny diabetic needle in a little safe box buried under the roots of an oak tree by the river at the Childrens' Discovery Meadow in downtown San Jose. I also have a safe deposit box with $2000 dollars for weed, meth, liquor, motel room, and a young slut for a night or perhaps two. It's sort of bona fide exit strategy, for when I decide that I've had enough. I don't plan to leave a note... 'cept maybe for the cleaning lady- just some instructions for her when she finds me. It would read something like this: Sorry, you poor, pussy-wort immigrant cleaning lady... If you're done screaming in Spanish and can read my well written English, you can forgo making a fuss and just quietly haul my bloated carcass and deposit it into the dumpster in the back. Thank you. PS: I left 120$ in the bedside drawer, consider it a glorified tip. Go buy some drugs with it.