gasping - but somehow still alive

Oh fuck it. I'm like a train wheel, rusty in the middle, shiny on the edges, and just keeps rollin' along on the track to nowhere. There was a great line from a Smiths song in 1984 or '85..."and when the day that I felt a natural emotion I'd get such a shock I'd probably jump in the ocean." - I just feel that way sometimes. Is everything recycled? Is nothing fresh and new? I'm a walking cliche. I hardly see the use in anything these days. I was thinking that I am more than likely once again hitting some kind of depressive streak, but damn, I don't believe that ever changed the reality of my existence. It's always raining somewhere.

I'd like to be one of those cool people that never lets anything get to them - happy all the time and lovin' every minute of it. Even that's fucking depressing. I don't know if I ever really feel happy, or if I have some internal imperative to keep trying before I end up driving my car off a bridge just to see what it feels like. I was contemplating different ways to suicide and I think I can settle for nicotine if it comes down to it. A friend tells me that ten pounds of tobacco could be distilled down into drops of poison that would kill me in thirty seconds. Neurotoxin. I feel a bit like Cleopatra in a way, but I don't have any slaves that I know of. I don't think I'd experiment that way; too much hassle just for me. I think if I could believe the thirty second thing I would be set. Nightshade could work as well, and it grows locally, but I don't want anything that tastes too bad. I mean, brew your last drink and it tastes like ass? Not hardly. It had better be good if it's the last thing that I ever taste. Lime margarita-flavored poison, perhaps? Could work, but who'd test it? Again with the snag.
I guess if I really tried I could find a really venomous snake. I'd have to be sure about the venom before I let it bite me. I know that cobras have a kickass neurotoxin that would have me hallucinating in five minutes, unconscious in fifteen, and dead in twenty. The one guy that lived to tell about it said it was the best trip he'd ever had. I don't know about nicotine. Thirty seconds till it hit my brain and stopped my heart. Yeah, except I would only have my friend's word on that. If a cobra's venom takes twenty minutes, then how would the nicotine be different, being that they are both neurotoxins? That doesn't seem to make much sense. I'll have to google it. I mean, contemplating suicide is a lot different that actually doing it. I'm so picky that even if I really was going to end my life I would spend way too long making sure I got it right. bah.