was there a note?

Dear

you know who the fuck you are:

I wouldn't give you the God-damned
satisfaction.

In fact,
I'm going to live
for another hundred fucking years.
I'm going to invent a serum that lets me, and then
I'm going to taunt the world with it to the tune of,
why, the patent sales alone will be worth, oh, untold
billions, correct? Yes. Except

when they find out it doesn't work for them,
I'll probably get
sued.

But what did I expect? Who

cares?

Whoever cashes in, whoever benefits
from whatever that little class action farce nets,

I will laugh all the way
to each individual funeral, and wink
at whoever catches the bouquet.

Do they do that at funerals?

They should start.

Because pardon the morbid levity, but
I'm just savoring the inevitability of my triumph,
and guess what? Living,

well,

it's the best revenge.

So rest assured: friend, nobody
has to worry about reading my note. No suicide, nope
By the time you read this, hope
you have your end
of our affairs in order, because
whatever you meant to me
- by the time you read this note -
it will already have died.

Sincerely,

Love,

Forgive me please,

I am desperately yours,

Well, maybe
jeez,

well maybe just whatever you
had meant to me

will have already died

by the time
I finish writing this note.

I sincerely hope so.

we'll see

I'll try.