When I was in elementary school I would deliver papers early in the morning. Neighborhood yards were expansive and alien at night. I often toyed with the idea of running past the porch I was delivering to and not stopping until I reached another town, where no one knew me.

I feel the same way now. I don’t really have a future ahead of me. I’ve failed at everything I’ve tried my hand at. If I cut off all ties, went to live somewhere quiet and slow-paced and isolated from my past, perhaps I could survive. I could play at being a different person, even if just for a little while before reality set in.

Or I could just find a gun.