Happy suicide

could you image a book in which the protagonist is a gregarious, empathetic and loveable character who is looking for someone to listen to him exhaust himself to suicide? i would wonder at how this characters keen and extroverted spirits end up being the cause of his own demise. what happens along the way that causes this persons transformation? albeit suicide, cannot beauty be seen or portray through such acts of ultimate will power? despair seems to shine a light onto that which grows in the darkness of happiness.

Feelings of happy anger

they say it’ll get better,
and i’m sure it will.
but what do i know?
i’m resistant to change,
i’m closed off from the new.
i repeat my daily rituals,
it’s my habit.
i’d like to think my feelings
but when i do, they seem irrational.
don’t get me wrong,
i’m content, albeit it be fleeting,
i do, however, find that i’m
quick to anger.
what a waste of energy.
but like i said,
my rituals are my habit,
and being unopened to change,
the anger remains.