Haha! Jokes on you man. Suicide just means we have one less hand to help wash the shitted bedsheets. Live people are much more likely to help you get what you want.

The number of hands available is rarely the problem with the bedsheets. "I screwed it up therefore I'm more qualified to tell the peons how to fix it!" is a particularly impoverished variant of argument from authority. The bedsheet-shitter is welcome to give his life whatever meaning he can through whatever means don't involve his continued access to our bedsheets.