Your life sucks. But suicide is fucking weak sauce boring as a dog's balls bullshit. You know you poop your pants when you die, right? That ain't classy.
Therefore, the nth Alternational Transgressive Posthumanist Dissociation has devised an alternative means of running away from all your fucking problems.
Let's seize an abandoned deep sea oil drilling platform and establish a floating pontoon city in international waters. That is, once we've got the whole Internet access thing figured out. I'm still writing the grant proposal for the satellite and networking.
I'm trying to draft a set of laws for this project, but I can't think of any besides pass to the left and provider delegates green hits.
As Chaircreature of the PARTAAAY!!!, I'm now accepting applications for members of the Sleeping Committee. Want to help? Justify your existence in this thread, and you may be among the Saved.