been thinking a lot about life and death. very sad about Alexander McQueen. hearing of his death reminded me of his mentor Isabella Blow, someone I long envied for her glamorous life. she killed herself too. she had cancer, when she finally succeeded, but that wasn't her first try.
I can understand it, even though I've never been all that close to actually wanting to do it. as my mom (who also had her moments of desperation and on several occasions nearly succeeded) once told me: "sometimes you have to go left foot right foot" and just get through.
I could to go on at length about my thoughts around this but I think I am gonna go soak in my hot tub instead. sometimes, choosing the immediate gratification over the gaze du navel is the right thing to do.