With over a dozen new additions to my stack of TPBs and HCs courtesy of that damn Powerbooks’ clearance sale, I figured I should start reading them ASAP. So last Saturday, in the middle of reading frenzy, I cracked open Deadpool: Dead Presidents. It’s a slim book, consisting only of six issues, and I could’ve finished it in one sitting if I wanted to, but I didn’t. Something came up, namely Mick Wall’s Enter Night: A Biography of Metallica. So today I picked up from where I left off. One word to describe this book: insane. And I love it!

Perhaps it was the gloominess of Monday, but I was dark today. Like, heavy metal dark. Walking from my mother’s place to our house, a good half-kilometer walk, more or less, I thought I’d be comfortable killing myself at that very moment. (Take note: comfortable, not eager. Worlds apart.) In my mind I was already composing a note, with perhaps the best last paragraph I could think of to leave the world by. I was not troubled by the thought; in fact, I was kind of amused by it. Like I was about to do a little mischief to annoy the neighbors. Leave the bastards scratching their heads.

But nothing happened. I am writing this now, after all, with my head decidedly clearer.

Perhaps it was just a stray thought that lingered longer than it should. Still, I am not taking it lightly…