I have never considered suicide. I have been pretty depressed, on drugs for it a couple times, but in my deepest darkness it has never popped into my head...I could just die. I think most people do at some point, but not me, not so far. I am surprised by this. I'm not really a bright and chipper kind of person. Emo suits me. On my good days I'm a melancholy fairy, but that's as sunny as it gets. And yet, I've absolutely never thought about ending it. Guess I had a pretty happy childhood or something. Now, running away from home, THAT's my bag. Ditching the responsibility, the traps I've made for myself, whatever is boring me, and re-inventing it all under a pseudonym, that I could do. That I sort of have done, a few times. I overcommit, can't juggle, get martyr-ie, and bail. Won't you all be sorry when I'm not around anymore? Ha. And where nobody knows me, they'll have to like me for me, not out of obligation, they won't take me for granted. It's a happy prospect. "One day I'll fly away, leave all this to yesterday …“