Ready to Die

I really am ready to die.  Notorious B.I.G. released an album called Ready to Die, and, before long, he was dead.  So, perhaps by titling this likewise, I have sealed my fate.  Death seems to be better than life.  It's easier.  That's what I believe.  There's no pain in death: no suffering.  They just sleep all the time, which sounds great to me. 
I've noticed a pattern.  I get up.  I take a shit and wipe my ass, which makes me hate life.  I hear my shitty neighbors, and, as a result, I hate life.  More shitting and wiping, which makes me hate life even more.  I go to work, which makes me hate life over and over again every time.  Driving makes me hate life too; it's so stressful.  All sorts of shitty things make me hate life.  I suppose I just hate life.
I've mentioned guzzling antifreeze here before.  Before one does anything life that, one should know what the consequences will be.  I Googled that a little, and it seems like a horrible way to die.  My point about that is, if I drink some of it, then, in my mind at least, I'll be fucked, and so I might as well jump or hang, because I've damaged myself (perhaps irrevocably) with the antifreeze (Or should one refer to it as "coolant" if one sips it in the summer?).  

I hate pooping!

Nothing to do with pooping, but it should be seen.

Oh!  I hate pooping so much!  The thrill is gone, and it's been gone for a long time now.  Although, I never get tired of looking at my poop.  I could look at my poop forever and ever and ever and ever.  I hate wiping my ass; that's for sure!  I have OCD, and one of the ways it manifests itself is with excessive ass wiping.  I will wipe, wipe, wipe until I see NOTHING (except for blood, which I've seen on toilet paper plenty of times after wiping) on the toilet paper. 
What a waste of time it is!  I've spent so much of my life pooping and wiping my ass.  Some people are really into juicing.  I Googled, "If you only drink juice, will you still poop?"  The answer, unfortunately, is yes.  The consensus was that you'll have a little, wet poop, but you will poop.  It seems like there's just no way around pooping.  It is a necessary evil.
Also as a result of OCD, I hate pooping anywhere but my home.  I hate pooping regardless, but I despise doing it anywhere else but home.  Public restrooms are gross.  I barely tolerate peeing there.  Those places are germ festivals.  I wear long-sleeved shirts: even in the summer.  The main reason I do it is becasue it covers my arms, so I don't have to put sunscreen on them, which saves both time and money.  But there's another advantage as well.  Whenever I have to grab a handle to enter or exit a public restroom, I touch it with a shirtsleeve instead of my skin.
Ever think about how much poop comes out of all the asses, human and animal, in one day?  It must be tons' worth.  So much poop.  A crazy amount of poop.  There's no doubt in my mind that people have killed themselves because they didn't want to poop, or wipe, anymore.  It's one more thing about life that sucks.
It's amazing to me that people are so sex crazy.  I'm not.  A beautiful woman looks great, but, first of all, she probably won't be into my bald loser ass, and, secondly, she farts and poops, which is gross.  So keep it all in perspective.  The most beautiful people in the world fart and poop out the stink.  They're just like you and me in that regard.