EPILOGUE
My dear reader, tell me—what do you wish for yourself when you love yourself?
And what do you wish for others… when you hate them? Death?But why?
Perhaps the most misunderstood word we’ve ever known. We haven’t yet decided—
Is it a cruel curse?Or a blessed freedom?
I, however, am no longer just a human in skin.
I am a soul—unbound, unbecoming, unrepenting.
And so I’ve chosen to believe:
Death is neither curse nor freedom.
It is a blessed curse—the final gift that frees us from this choking world, from the illusion of belonging, from the chains we so lovingly call connections.
Words like love, life, care—they all beg.
Love demands love in return.
Life demands longing, suffering.
Care demands vulnerability, wounds.
But death, my darling, asks for nothing.
And gives you everything.
So to my fellow readers, to my fellow broken souls and quiet seekers—
Here is the offering:
HOW TO DIE BRUTALLY IN 11 WAYS.
But first, you must learn the art of pain.
You must not only bear it—
You must taste it.
Savor it.
Love it.
Tell me, my fellow lover—
Don’t you feel holy when blood leaves the body like truth from the soul?
No?
Then maybe this book isn’t for you.
Or maybe… it will be, by the time you reach the end.
NOTE:
This book contains graphic violence.
The writer does not encourage or glorify self-harm.
But when the world harms you—
Come.
Come to me.
I will not stop the pain.
I will teach you how to enjoy it.
This book is yours.
Keep it close. Not in your hands,
But nearest to your soul.
Smile. With. Pain.
