Suicide is an amazing thing. Borne of desire to release oneself of his soul, the encroaching fire of living, people descend into the frosts of unfeeling death, smiling, rejecting the life that they have been forced to be given.
I suppose that there are several methods to force life out of themselves. Crumpling under the force of the train seemed to be irreverent and irresponsible (they are the same). But on further reflection, you will agree that it is a symbolically right method to end your life.
Obstructing the greater forces, and thudding along the wheels of the carriages strong with men's heels. Filling into a red spring that outlines the trails of wheel's progress. And mixing with the the forgotten dust that sift in the wind.
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