This document is to serve as either a suicide note in the event of an intentional passing or a will if my death is unintentional. My brother and sister should be the executors of my will, if either of them are for any reason unavailable, it should be Austin. I leave my only prized possessions, my books, to friends and family to pick and choose whichever they please, the rest can be donated to any and all libraries if the pages are unblemished. My only hope is that a day is chosen where everyone who would like to can go through my bookshelves together. Please listen to Magic Man by Caravan as you think of my life and please try not to pick too many, I know firsthand the plight of having way more books than you'll ever read. My Miller translation of the Phenomenology of Spirit (the only one incredibly marked up) should go to my mother and my volumes of Capital should go to my brother. I also request that he reads 'Lenin and Philosophy and Other Essays' by Louis Althusser. I believe the library at the local university has a copy and I also request that Connor walk out with it. He'll know what I mean. As far as any funeral rites, I request to be cremated, the least expensive option should be chosen as I do not want my death to be a financial burden. Use whatever money I have left to pay for it, although I apologize if it isn't much. Do anything with the ashes, I'm not particularly picky. This writing is also to serve as an apology for anyone who is to discover my body, I'm sorry for the mess. I also apologize for the shock of discovering my bloodstained copies of the works of Georges Bataille. My only other prized possession that I can think of at this moment, my blue childhood blanket, should go to whichever of my siblings is the first to have a child as it should belong to their firstborn.
To my sister, I know we've never been particularly close but I'd like to you to know that I stood by your side at the hospital and I'm glad you're still here. Truly, you're the best of us. To my brother, I love you and I'm sorry for everything. Our cousin really fucked me up. To Natasha, you were the only woman I ever truly loved, and I'm sorry that you got involved with someone as disgusting and pathetic as myself, and that I was never able to commit to our relationship while I was alive. But, please know that my death had nothing to do with you, I simply couldn't bare to live anymore, with or without you. I know that you're disgusted with me, and you have every right to hate me, and every right to believe that my love for you isn't the least bit genuine, but know that at the end of my life you were one of the few people I managed to think about at the most extreme ends of my depression. Please think of me fondly even if your sister rightfully hates me.
It's a strange business to have my suicide note on my public website, but truly it feels like the only creative project I've ever really cared about aside from music, so it feels quite fitting. I should still be logged into Neocities on my computer so I also request that the data of my website be downloaded and backed up to a couple USB flash drives as it's something I've never gotten around to. All the music I've ever made should be on my computer but it'll be quite a mess to find it all since it's spread out in different places, and truthfully I don't think all of it is good so do not by any means feel pressured to go through it all. The only works I'm particularly proud of that I hope are discovered by those I care about are 808s and Self Hate Vol. 1 and Digital Self Harm, but Starless and An Ideological Thing unfortunately remain unfinished. There should be a couple cassette tapes with my music laying around in my bedroom, those can go to my mother and friends.