My grandfather had died, and my mother was trying to explain it to me

Grandpa isn’t coming back? No, she said. Not ever again

…

And I remember saying, hold everything right fucking there. You went to all the trouble of conceiving me, and giving birth to me, and raising me and clothing me and all - and, yeah, whipping me from time to time, and making me live in a house that’s freezing fucking cold all the goddamn time -

- and you make me cry and things hurt so much and disappointments crush my heart every day and I can’t do half the things I want to and sometimes I just want to scream - and what I’ve got to look forward to is my body breaking and something flipping off the switch in my head -  

I go through all this - and then there’s death?

What is the motherfucking deal here? I wasn’t having this. This was not fair.

There was no way you could expect me to put up with all that daily shit and know that at the end of it all, when you presume things have to get better, you just die.

…

I’ll never forget that day. It was like being stamped on.

It was the old joke, told to a kid for the first time: life sucks, and then you die.

Here just to die. Here to go.

- Warren Ellis, Transmetropolitan #25, ‘Here To Go’