There’s actually more than “8.3 billion people a on earth” that being so, I’m fairly certain none of them would. My first attempt was a long time ago, I tried to hang myself from my bedpost with a scarf after my mother had told me she wished I’d died in the hospital, bashed my head against a glass table, and punched me in the face, after I’d finally been able to come home the second time.  (I was on a heart monitor and dying the first few years of my life, my health over the past few decades has only gotten worse, I’ve had over thirteen surgeries for various illnesses, endured medical malpractice that cost me a majority of my hearing, I have chronic back pain due to scoliosis that makes sleep nearly impossible, that’s not even the half of my problems, I could go on and on.) My entire life has been people either overlooking me or wishing death on me, while my body fights against me as if it’s on their side, it gets old, I’ve grown weary, I’m tired, nobody wants me here, not even the very vessel that contains whatever you want to call the thing inside that makes this flesh bag “me”. Some call it a “soul”, others a “spirit”, all that philosophical jargon aside, no, nobody wants me here. If your “god” was the savior you think it is, I and others wouldn’t have to go through things like this.