DATE: October 22, 2009 DAY: Thursday TIME: 8:26 p.m. LISTENING TO: Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Zero Oh, happy dagger! I think about suicide sometimes. I entertain the thought chiefly for aesthetic or literary purposes so there is no need for much alarm. Like a writer who creates scenes in his mind, I wonder about the many different ways of killing myself. You see, I am not worried about being dead, for what could be more natural? I, who am dying, the moment I was born? What concerns me is the dying part -- or rather more precisely, the excruciating pain that I am convinced must accompany the last breath I expel from this body. For I am afraid of pain (and I talk about the grandiose kind, not the dull, gradual sort of ache experienced everyday with each molecule of oxygen that enters the bloodstream or the kind of little death that one suffers each time one falls in love), so I think about how to end my life with the least suffering involved. How shall I die? For most people there...