If It's My Life, It's My Death, Too

So many euphemisms for this… Croaking, pushing up daisies, sprouting wings, throwing in the towel, and finally, dying. There has been much debate over whether or not a suffering individual should be allowed to end his or her life. Honestly, think about it… If you were dying of terminal cancer, suffering, choking on your own tears while begging for morphine, euthanasia would most likely cross your mind once or twice. I may have been all about pleasure before, but when it comes to laying in bed all day wishing I were dead, I’d rather do more than wishing and just get things over with. Euthanasia is a perfect way to diminish and rid people of their pain and misery; you know me, I’m all about ‘no pain, all gain’. As humans, we should not be forced by anyone else to endure a single moment of pain, so if it is our wish to depart from this world in blissful riddance, so be it. After a certain point, if the light at the end of the tunnel goes from being a flicker to shining as bright as the light of day, it’s most likely time to kick the bucket and call it a night.

I see no reason why anyone should withstand the pain of dying without the choice of death. If turning the leaf will promise an end to the unbearable, then by all means, meet me on the other side.

See you there,
H.