The Final Deletion

You know, sometimes it happens (if you are lucky, it will never happen to you) that you end up unappreciated, uncared, unwanted, unloved. Nothing in life makes it worth living any more. The thought of continuing to live in this world filled with cruelty and selfishness and pain is becoming more and more abhorrent every single fucking day. When you finally realize that your life is offering nothing but disturbance and disruption to the ones who are supposed to be your “friends”; your existence irritates them, angers them and saddens them.

Consciously or subconsciously, they all think the same – why doesn’t this fat uncouth loser and embarrassment to humanity just fuck off?

The sad thing is that it has taken me so many years to realize this!!!

Yes, I admit it, I was a fucking idiot!

But not anymore, oh no way Jose; when Cheapo understands something, Cheapo acts on it.

And now that I have realized that my life is worth the sum total of diddly squat, fuck all and sweet fanny adams, well, now I know that it has to be ended.

The Final Deletion awaits.

I know I know, there will be lots of arguments against suicide.

But here’s the thing, none of them apply to Cheapo.


  • People say you should follow your dream

Well, my dreams have died; whatever and everything that I dreamed of has crashed and burned

  • People say you should do what you like

I like writing, I am a creative person; but no man can write without a muse.

I had a muse.

But my muse has gone away (it was only a matter of time anyway) and before going away she disqualified me from her museship. I don’t blame her at all; I am neither a very good writer nor a very good painter. I am guessing that my creations embarrassed her; probably her friends and family probably chided her and took the piss out of her for being the muse of a 3rd grade jabrony like me; QED the disqualification.

So, no more creations from me,no outlet for my creativity, the soul shrinking and shriveling up like a dead flower

  • People say that you have friends who care for you

I thought that there is something in this world called friendship, that there are people who are friends, who care about whether you live or die, people who will help you survive.

Now, finally, I know that most of that is a myth.

If you care for a person, you try and help that person when he or she goes through a miserable time. When you care for a person, you live up to your promises, at least you try. However. my so called “friends” treat their promises to me like the Venetians and Enrico Dandolo treated the 4th crusade .
Never mind the Champs Elysee, my life is the original boulevard of broken promises.
People have broken their promise because they have forgotten about me (for example, school friends)
People have broken their promises over love (for example, Kingshuk and Mithila)
People have broken their promises because they are busy (college “friends”)
People have broken their promises because their use for me is over (Satty)
People have broken their promises because they just can’t be bothered to lift a finger to help me (Pallavi)
The way people, my so called ‘friends’ have treated me, treated promises to me makes it amply clear that they do not care for me. It makes no difference to them whether I live or die; hell some would welcome my death. Tomorrow will be no different, neither will be next week or next month. The only thing that will remain constant is pain and humiliation and the disdain and disgust of the so called “friends”.


  • People say that you should be happy about what you have

So what do I have?

A life without dreams, without hope, without love, without friends.

Moreover, a life filled with pain, both emotional and fucking physical.

I am deaf in one ear, my heart, liver, lungs, stomach and spine don’t work properly, my neck and shoulders are a complete mess and I have high everything.

So far so good right?

And now my leg has got into the action. Critics opine that its broken and that surgery may be needed.

Oh the humanity.

And to cap it all off, my head medicine isn’t really working. Well it always needed emotional support to complement the effects; unfortunately, my support has gone away (am not blaming her, she has been more than patient and supportive with me, but its too much for her; and since I love her and care for her, I cant impose on her also)

The despair, desolation and dejection is all too much. And since I am all alone, there’s really no point in fighting, in struggling anymore.

And now that the why has been fixed, the next thing to fix is how


teen-suicide-presentation-4-728 stock-vector-suicidal-commit-suicide-methods-stick-figure-pictogram-icons-244909888

Here are the most common methods

  1. Burning
  2. Drowning
  3. Electric Shock
  4. Cutting the artery
  5. Jumping from height/in front of a train
  6. Carbon monoxide inhalation
  7. Poisons
  8. Hanging
  9. Guns
  10. Drugs/Alcohol

Having been in some serious severe pain pretty much 24/7 for the last 7-8 years, I am pretty much allergic to pain by now.

So burning, jumping and hanging are out.

I don’t have access to guns, so that’s out

Electric shocks are a bit hit and miss, what if I survive? Pain will be massive, so that’s out.

I don’t have access to potassium cyanide; all the common vermin killers available are too painful, so they are out.

So what’s left?

  1. Drowning
  2. Cutting the artery
  3. Carbon monoxide inhalation
  4. Drugs/Alcohol

Hmm, now we are talking.

Now, downing is good;but unfortunately, I would rather support Arsenal than jump into any of the polluted dirty water-bodies here in India. Hey, I may be committing suicide, but the Cheapo has standards.

So that’s out.

Now, there is three.

  1. Cutting the artery
  2. Carbon monoxide inhalation
  3. Drugs/Alcohol

But they are all slow.

And this being India, chances of someone disturbing are high.

So, what to do?

Combinations of course.

What if I hop up on alcohol and drugs and then seal myself in a carbon monoxide filled situation and then cut off the arteries?

Aye, that will work.

But there is still a potential hazard.

Science says

24g of Paracetamol is generally accepted to be a fatal dose. The lowest amount of Paracetamol to cause death was found by one study to be 10g. As for Paracetamol of 500mg per tablet, it is generally recommended to take no more than 8 tablets (500mg) within 24 hours, and 24 to 30 tablets taken at one time can lead to overdose or even death.

Chances of puking are high with overdose of alcohol and drugs. And puking will kind of defeat the purpose. (Plus its stinky and messy)

So, the correct path is acclimatization.

The body has to be conditioned to accept all that stuff without pukes.

And you will be happy to know, ladies and gentlemen, that I have started the process.

A combination of vodka mixed with rum and gin plus paracetamol plus pain killer tablets plus Serenace, the sleeping pills – that’s ought to do it.

Booyaka booyaka 619

Now, its just a matter of time.


2 thoughts on “The Final Deletion

  1. Yo Dude! What the fuck are you talking about? Stop suiciding and come over here for a while. You can’t die like this after I invited you; it’s so fucking impolite. There are so many things you didn’t see yet, so once you’ll have puked your vodka, just take a flight to France to taste the “potion magique”. We need an Obelix here. Tibo


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