Ideally, yes. Realistically however, I just don't see it ever happening. Perhaps when I'm 45 years old, both of my parents are dead and I'm living as a homeless drifter encircled by the fine aromas of piss & garbage, the pain might finally outweigh my cowardice. Knowing me though, it's hard to say. Until then, I pray for death. The swift & inescapable kind. The kind I'd simply have no control over, so basically the opposite of what's expressed in this thread essentially.
Random aside, but I wish I could be like Susan Sarandon's character from "You Don't know Jack" (an HBO originals film about Jack Kevorkian) in the face of death. I won't spoil what happens, but it just really stuck out to me. Such peace, such courage, such dignity. I look like fucking Grima Wormtongue by comparison. Although, it bears saying, that not even Jack (Dr. Life) himself would give me what I desire. Judgemental prick that he was. There's actually a scene in the film where he meets with this one guy who set himself on fire in a suicide attempt due to being permanently crippled and Kevorkian turns him away because he thinks he's just depressed. "Oh, you've got painful burns all over your body and are confined to a wheelchair? Hmm, I think you're just depressed. Sorry can't help ya." And yeah I realize he was just trying to avoid the retarded laws we have in place and so had to be extra careful about who he treated and why, but I just don't buy that's the whole story. I think he genuinely believed that those with severe, untreatable depression weren't fit for his services. To which I say a resounding. Fuck. You. Someone like me, with a fairly strong, healthy looking outward appearance, would've been turned away in an instant. And that, in my opinion, is bullshit. My mind could be, and is, the equivalent of torn-up roadkill that's been left rotting in the sun for months on end, but it wouldn't matter one bit. He'd probably take one look at me and see this normal looking white guy and simply shrug me off, while perhaps suggesting I see some useless fucking psychiatrist just to act as the cherry on top. It should be enough that someone just wants to die. No matter their physical state. Even if it's just for philosophical reasons. If an Olympic athlete wanted to die by assisted suicide because they realized that life is a stupid, pointless game of satiating wants/needs (which it is) than they should be fully within their rights to do so. But, nooooo. They've just got a bad attitude. Here take these pills and go see a therapist, instead. Madness. Utter madness. Anyway, it doesn't matter in the end because I'd still be too much of a pussy to go to a euthanasia clinic, even if they did exist. Hell, not even Futurama style suicide booths would help someone like me. All in all, just another useless tangent.
I don't regard my state of mind as some pessimistic view of the world, I regard it as the world itself. Evolution can not avoid bringing intelligent life to one conclusion and that one conclusion above all else is futility.
Cormac McCarthy - Sunset Limited