A tired rant on the right to live or die as we choose, and how we choose how we choose.

People have been making the choice to die since jump, just ask Kurt Cobain. Often it is a shock, seen as a selfish, cowardly or desperate act. The difficulties arise when those people who would ask to end their own lives first ask for the blessing of those around them, attempting to create a dialogue informing a concept that seems, at first glance, indefensible; would it be okay if I ended my life?
With regards to the adolescent jumper, pilltosser or vein-dumper, suffering in silence then vanishing in a blaze, it is almost seen as an unavoidable loss, like every so often there's an egg in the carton on the shelf in the supermarket that's broken before you even pick up the package. But when considering those with the wisdom of ages, old enough to know better, who've lived life and can look back, who want to make a similar choice, we are aghast, shocked and dismayed that such a thing could even happen.
Surely, callous a out sounds, we've got it backwards. It should be the other way around. Euthanasia should be one of those things that is sad, upsetting and makes us shake our heads at what the world has come to, hard on those left behind, maybe a little selfish, but there you have it, while the deliberate death decisions of the young should fuel debate, polarise and consternate, stop the world each time it happens.
Those who know enough to know they know enough should be allowed to make their peace the way they want to, while those who know that all they know is all there is to know should be watched and cared for until they see what knowing is actually about, and can make a decision based on experience.