Suicide really should not be considered the coward’s way out. In truth it is not such a bad choice. Life is a comic little error of the universe – they tell us that suicide is the greatest cowardice – that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which each man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person. The discovery of truth is prevented by prejudice; well, if the truth is that suicide is a perfectly reasonable and entitled act, then it is prejudice that allows us to believe that it is not. No one knows what life is, and for so many people it is that endless pendulum between suffering and boredom. If that is the case, then let them commit suicide. Death comes for us all in the end, and so what if a few of us choose to encounter it earlier than the rest.
And yet – death can be waylaid by happiness. Happiness is that crazy, ephemeral thing that supposedly we all chase after. No one truly knows the formula for happiness, and, in my opinion, no one ever will. The reason that no one knows the formula is because the people who seek the formula assume that happiness is some kind of endless, post-human condition. It is not. The only way to appreciate the highs is to experience the lows, and so to experience happiness one must experience misery. Happiness is achieved through friendship, freedom and rational thought, but it is also maximised by exposure to the worst that life has to offer. That is why we must never be content simply to be content. We must strive and suffer amongst friends in order that we might appreciate the moments that we are truly happy with them. If a human subscribes to such a philosophy, suicide will seem much less an option. Live amongst the poor, and be happy with the rich.