One of my poetic suicide notes, of which there are quite a few, delights me to this day. “Do nothing,” it challenges, “if you dare” (“Exit V,” November 16, 2004). And that is all there is to it. The challenge. Which is why it delights me each and every time I stumble upon it on one of my uncharted journeys through my writings. Deep down, it relies on the innate preference of the human species for homicide rather than suicide (“My Choice,” July 21, 1993). Indeed, I have all the confidence that my fellow humans will see to the nitty-gritty in the fulness of time. Sooner or later, they will attempt to annihilate each other with all the gusto required for such a momentous endeavor (“World War III for Beginners,” October 18, 2017). The solution. And all it takes is doing nothing. As suicides go, this one is poetic to boot. But only if one dares, of course.