Suicide is the routine. The balancing act. No one left behind hurts and mourns. The worlds move on.
Death is not news anymore. Life goes on. The value of existence is relative. Meaning of life is what one assigns it.
Winners live and breed. Losers bow out with dignity. All fair game. Humanity doesn’t need so many of its kind; only a few harbingers of the voyage into the future. Let their tribe increase. All the rest are dispensable.
They who know their role in the cosmic play (or lack thereof) are free to slip behind the curtains of being. The audience and the critics of society pay no heed.
Everyone understands. Its the grand show that must goes on. All else is mere happenstance.