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If you're reading this, I am deceased. This is a scheduled message made to be published in the future; thus there is no chance that I survived.

I suppose the first question that comes to mind is why I did end my life. I sincerely wonder if some people saw it coming, or if I managed to hide it. What you need to understand is the inevitable aspect of it. Let me explain:

About eight years ago, I started having multiple health issues. Some have been diagnosed, but much too late. Since then, my health has globally worsened, with its ups and downs. I am more and more handicapped in day to day life, and even though it's still possible to live correctly, I feel trapped. To be clear, I do not think degraded living conditions are enough to give up. The required condition tends to be lack of hope. In the case of my health, it has become clear a few years ago already, and that's at that time I realized my own mortality, and the length and probable end of my life.

I could list all my issues; however I doubt it would explain much more. Their consequences is being always tired (having a good night is now a distant memory), and the inability to enjoy my hobbies (e.g. tinnitus). There's also the fact that trigeminal neuralgia is also known as the "suicide decease". Some of my issues are likely linked; in any case I feel that my body is under siege in multiple ways, always more powerful and numerous. Moreover, the temporary and unpredictable aspect leave me vulnerable and unable to achieve my goals. I am a prisoner of my own body that seem to be three times my age. I am actually wondering what an autopsy could reveal, which can seem paradoxical as I won't be there to see the results.


Thus, this isn't something I decided on a whim. Sure, I would have preferred doing it in a better planned way, but various factors pushed me to do it now. I will add that I don't take mood-altering medication. I even stopped one if the past for that reason. I made some rules during those eight years to avoid doing something too eagerly. So, for height years, I went on, trying to avoid thinking about the coming end. By lying, either to my peers but mostly to myself. Even though my life didn't change much, that isn't the case of my ideals.

I thought for a long time that I would become immortal through scientific progress. "Normal" people when exposed to that idea would say they'd be eventually bored. More me, it always seemed impossible.
Coming back to reality was harsh. I could blame my current state on incompetence from some people, bad luck, but there's hedonistic choices I made that are not negligible. But it doesn't really matter and I can't do anything about it.

In other circumstances, I think I wouldn't have missed not having children. I am at least saddened I won't see the children of my family and friends. It's hard to explain, but now I get it. That's what brings tears to my eyes, more than my incoming death. There's some other things I regret, like the lack of religion, of meaning to my life. The time wasted on useless things. The rejection of nature.


As a matter of fact, I have a bittersweet feeling at this time. Deliverance awaits. But I'm still putting myself in the shoes of my peers and I think of the pain I'm going to cause. Even though I'm trying my best, in particular by not dying at home, and in a more interesting way that I would have thought. For those who will miss me, I don't regret these years by your side.

It's a selfish act, that I wouldn't have gone through if people really depended on me. However, I can't imagine myself spending my last days more and more diminished, not contributing to society, not fighting to preserve it. And that's one of the things that completely changed for me these last years: I care about what happens after my death. That's why I decided to leave my modest wealth to certain causes and people. I think and hope that they will make a better use of it.


I would like to go back to the second necessary condition to suicide, the lack of hope. After all, even when everything is wrong, there's no reason to end it if there is any chance things will get better. After all these years, I have no doubts about my health. However, there's another side to it.

Maybe it is because I am more aware, or because I identify more easily my degenerating body to other things; still, I can't avoid noticing the decline of Western civilization. It took me some to time to accept it; maybe more than my own fate. I won't try to convince anyone here, or digress on Desmond, building 7 or wooden doors. What I see is an almost worldwide Weimar republic, and the existence of Evil. Still, the enemy is within. It's the constant self-flagellation, the self-loathing, the rejection of our ancestors and our heritage. As for myself, while I am going to do something that might evoke it, I completely reject this way of thinking.

As some of you already knew, I wanted to go back to a simpler life, away from the industrial revolution and its consequences that have been a disaster for the human race. The sanitary panic, always more senseless, has been used to harm that, while propping up an industry that I was a part of but am now disgusted by. Still, I know well that I couldn't have done it anyway due to my poor health.


While it's a long-term trend, this year in particular has shown how submissive the population can be, first when accepting unprecedented civil liberties violations on the pretense of a virus less dangerous than seasonal flu, then kneeling down for a career criminal who happened to die of an overdose while resisting arrest, or pretend to fight for freedom of speech while jailing people for their ideas. Oddly, as trust in media is at historic lows, the population has blindly accepted those reality distortions. To top it all, F9 has been pushed back to 2021.

But that's also the proof that things can change rapidly. For the worst here, but why not for the better in the future?
We come back to my previous perspective, I see young people who give me hope, who understood sooner than me that we must secure the existence of our people and a future for our children. I feel the need to fight and the idea to passively watch decline now feels unbearable.


I've stressed the inevitable aspect for multiple reasons. One is that I wouldn't want anyone to donate to suicide prevention charities in my name. Better celebrate life, and think about your family's future and your own.


Some technical details:
- - Most of the services I run are paid for at least a year.
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