Puking and Crying.

You are so upset you are sick.

You are pathetic.

Your mother is ashamed of you.

Suicide would be too good for you.

Someone calls the police because they think you're dead.

You're just drunk.

Passed out on the floor of a discotheque.

Hoping people will stamp you into the ground.

Hoping, but realising even shit dreams don't come true for you.

You wish to be your younger self.

When miserablism got you laid.

The Irn Bru Hipster.

You can fit a glass bottle of Ginger in your skinny jeans back pocket, and this makes you happy.

My suicide note

would probably consist of lyrics by The Smiths.