I left last night. Drove for hours. Went to a cemetery and just sat and listened. The dead are peaceful. Indifferent to my tears and this pain in my chest that twists in my gut they don’t care. They don’t notice me. Neither do the living. When I die I will have achieved one thing…
Zen. I will have walked thru life and left no trace of who I am. My corrupt and broken hard drive won’t be worth transferring. I’m tired not even these posts really matter. I’m just sitting in this parking lot with 4 bottles full of pills and a cup of hot coffee. I just need…
A resource to tip the scales into balance because right now his silence is all I hear. He can’t see me. His own pain makes me invisible. Maybe he doesn’t know I am gone…
Maybe he won’t
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Seems to me that one who follows the Tao of Zen would not be seeking suicide. Unless one were in a certain time and a certain culture where seppeku was expected under certain circumstances.
If he did comfort you, would you still want to die?
Or would his embrace ease your pain?
Seppuku is ritual “suicide,” disembowelment. Does it matter what the method is? Is there more justification in a ritual of self destruction or a simple coffee valium, vicadin, cyclobenzaprine, latte?
I am not Samurai but I have faced many battles. I fought, I lived, the ones who did this to me showed no mercy. My sister should have let me die. Later when I was a prisoner, my captor should have left me the clean honor of death. Instead I carry it inside. The filth that was done to me brings me dishonor. I look normal on the outside but inside…
I feel the poison inside me, as caustic as acid. These memories are a fire that burns in my brain. I cannot purge it from my mind. I can not scrub it from my body. Seppuku is mine by right. It is the only one not taken from me. What other course is left? I want the nightmares to end. I have tried anesthesia pills, powders and potions and years of therapy. I loath that I breath.
He was my last attempt for a chance to live. But I came too late for him. In ten years he has lost his credit rating, millions of dollars, and his self esteam. Even now he only sees his desolation. He will not fight for US. It is only “HE”. When the last colapses I will be left behind.
For him the end is disgrace and financial ruin. I am all but forgotten. For me the end is facing the knowledge that I will once more be alone to face my demons. I know what is coming for me better an undiscovered country than a known one. i hoped he would see me. That I would be real. That I would become like the Velvetine Rabbit I just wanted to be loved until I was real again.
We met online, and we would talk and things were different. Maybe there isn’t any hope for resurrecting that time today, but maybe there is tomorrrow? The graveyard has more significance to me than you. Why did you go there??? I can’t change what has happened in the past (as you so graphically showed me as I sought solace feeling the coldness of a bronze marker in winter), but I/we can try to make a better future. The graveyard is a stark reminder of the past. One suicide, one early unnatural death, and one who cared but was too old to make a difference beyond childhood. The irony of you seeking peace there is perhaps a fitting place to end this battle. The end we choose should not be based on the past, nor of our own hand if we are otherwise healthy. I know it is hard now, but you are loved. Yes, it’s a doltish statement to make to someone of your caliber. Where is Cyrano de Bergerac when I need him? But it is true, and you know it. You didn’t deserve your past any more than many of the writers on this board. But like them, don’t think your disappearance would be forgotten quickly, any more than those spirits that already rest in that graveyard. Gently, let’s find a way out of this. Peace.
Peace
Take my hand. Lead me for I can not find my way. I am adrift in torture. I live in dispisement of this life. I am forsaken and lost. The answers once so clear are as beyond me as the stars of heaven. I live on borrowed time. I feel myself slipping and the grasp I once had was on the hope of a better day. I surrendered to a desire for death because I see no alternative. Because I believe I am the cause of that ruin. Over and over I have been told there is no way out but ruin. Why now do you believe it is different? You are my Cyrano and I will not reject you but I can not promise staying will be easy. I am more in the next world than this one. My trust is bruied and my faith expendable. I would still choose you over oblivian.