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Sunday, 23 October 2016

On edge

Sunday, October 23rd., Rue de Calais, Paris

I could not work today. I think I find my nerves more sensitive every day really. I wish letters came just before dinner instead of just after breakfast; then they could not interfere with and disarrange the general 'lay' of one's thoughts for the day's work. On the other hand they might disturb the digestion, and also one's sleep.

One of those days in consequence when my thoughts have turned to suicide; not that I am thinking of committing suicide, but have a desire to be prepared should something happen to seriously disable me. I think I would feel more content if I had a powder of some sort on hand to take should I feel that the time has come. The problem is what powder, and how to get hold of it, and will it work when needed? Of course there are lots of potential ways to end one's life, but most seem unnecessarily painful, undignified,and inconvenient to others. I would like to find some method which involves taking a powder, falling quietly to sleep, and never waking up. That doesn't seem so much to ask, but I have learned from experience that many people are horrified by the mere suggestion. Why has suicide acquired this evil reputation? In Roman times it was regarded as a noble act, and still is I think in Japan. But here in our supposedly civilised European society it is beyond the pale to make sensible preparations. Still, I am not without hope that a way will be found.

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