Cause of Death: Suicide
They raped me on July 25th, 3 days before my birthday. I have eaten very little since this day. I actually went 5 days without eating at all. Then they raped me on my birthday. This is the second year in a row they have raped me on my birthday. Then they raped me again on the very next day. They also molested me last week when they made me masturbate their 15 year old daughter. I am just dying and I have been since they started raping me regularly in 2016. They also will not stop following me, I go to bed to the sound of them and wake up to the same sound. Everything they say is and always has been abusive. I have been trying to flee since 11 years old. I do fine when I am away from the home and on my own, but as soon as I go back I will be demonized, mocked, and molested/raped.. yesterday, I had to take a metal pole to my head again to start beating the sh*t out of me again, I also had to drop all of my college classes and this was my one and only chance because I had a scholarship for $9,000.
Oh I forgot to say they almost murdered me in my sleep the other day- because like I said they have caused me to become paralyzed about 10 times. This time they caused me to have a grand mal seizure.
I’d love to post this just so in a few years it will be hidden in a burrow of other posts where it will never be seen again.
I’d say that I am pretty mature. I’d also say there is nothing worth living for. I’ve never enjoyed my life and I’ve always only had myself. It seems to be getting a bit worse because I’ve been quite the victim of predator’s attacks which has made me fearful, but not only that it has made me wonder why I am even still alive and has made me doubt myself, therefore leading me towards hating myself.
I always don’t know why they chose me to attack or even know of me or pay attention to me, but no matter what I do, I am attacked in one way or another. I’ve had quite my share of bad experiences and the best experience I have had is to be alone. It seems every time I start to enjoy my alone-time, I find myself getting attacked again. I’ve planned to commit suicide since 2006 due to how empty my life has always been and how unhappy I am down to the basis of life and living in a pretty crappy circumstance.
I don’t see my desire to commit suicide ever changing. I have nothing to stop me because I have no friends and I care about no one in the world. My only problem is I cannot find the strength anymore (after all of these attacks) to go out and collect the tools that I would need to commit. So, I am left here, practically bed-ridden by a nasty violent rape who threatened murder as he was raping me, working just to pay the company of the one that raped me. They have taken 12,000$ from me since 2016.
I was a girl once. Now I would say I am just a victim. But, I’ve never desired marriage and God forbid I ever ever give birth. Frankly, I feel all I will ever experience are negative things and I feel like the only resulting thing from me to commit suicide is I would lose my predator(s) forever.. But that also means I would lose what I once loved before the predators started attacking me, my life and myself.
Talking about it will never change anything. I could talk about it forever. Oh, I’ve been raped 150 times in the last 3 years. Oh, I am a lesbian woman. Oh, I get followed whenever I go outside. I have to pay strangers ridiculous amounts of money for god knows what.
I was all set and ready to commit in 2012 when random folks stepped in solely to not let me. People I’d maybe spent ten minutes with in 2005. Do you think they have the right to stop someone from committing suicide when the committer has never cared about the party that is stopping them? And the party stopping the committer did it for religious believes that the committer does not share?
I live out of what is like the groundhogs day movie, I live the same day every single day and nothing is good about it. Mostly all I live on now are the memories of my 150 rapes that flash through my head all throughout the day while I struggle to reach for the knife to slit my throat while being followed by ugly sh*ts.
I have started to attempt to write a novel about surviving sexual abuse.
So far I have documented all of my abuse that I can remember. I am sure there are oodles more that I cannot access right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever make it into a book because revisiting is painful enough.. let alone to take all of those terrible moments and make it into a self-help rescue book for young girls who get raped, fondled, assaulted, etc. Or any lesbian, gays, FTM, MTF that deal with incessant abuse.
For example, most of my abuse started a little before, but mostly immediately AFTER I had heard a FTM in my exact city and state, was raped and murdered. She looked a lot like me but was very skinny and I’m a bit chunky. The sad thing is she was a few years younger than me. It honestly could have been me, we are quite a bit alike. I get very afraid of these things now. I never realized how much hate people harbor for anyone that goes against there idea of what is RIGHT, JUST, FAIR. I was always taught that a person’s sexual affairs are their own business and only have sexual intercourse with one that you ‘love.’
Me, being already pretty much ready to pass, would give my life to get hers back. I would say I’d take her place, but I can not handle the ‘rape’ factor. I would rather just be off to commit by myself then be in her exact place. But if I could commit to get her back, I would do that for her. Couldn’t that have been enough?
I began being assaulted pretty bad around the age of 21, and that is also the age of Brandon Teena – the one famous from the documentary Boys Don’t Cry, of whom was FTM and raped and murdered by a girl and her men when the girl that she had held hands with, and made out with– found out Brandon was not a boy, but was a girl that looked masculine. I’m not sure if Brandon ever disclosed her gender as ‘male’ to the girl, but Brandon kissed her because he liked her. Apparently it mattered to her so much (even though she liked his looks enough to let him kiss her) that he was hiding his female genitalia, that she suffered what they call “Gay Panic” and had her men murder him.
Apparently “Gay Panic” is a legal term that lets you get your charges dropped if you murder a Homosexual or Transgender. The only terms are you had to have been romantically or sexually in a relationship with that person until you find out – hey this chick doesnt have a twat – or this dude doesnt have a dick! Say, you order a sex worker and they bring you a transgender female who was a man but had surgery to get a vagina… if you have sex with the worker then see her scars and choke her to death, your charge can be dropped for filing “Gay Panic.”
I have always identified as a homosexual woman and I never try to hide that BECAUSE I DON’T WANT to be a man. Yet I dress in men’s clothing and cologne and have a man’s haircut. You could refer to me as a ‘he’ because I may appear that way, but I would never take testerone because I am proud to be born a woman and am not attracted to a man’s shape, excessive body hair, facial hair, physical or mental qualities, vocal inflection – so I would never want to mimic one with a testosterone booster, you feel? No, I do not have dysphoria and feel like I am a man – like a transgender would – I am simply only attracted to the feminine. I do not try to pass for a man, I only dress in what I like and do what I like. Yet, I always am addressed as a “he,” a “sir,” I even have been called a “he-she.” and it’s always like a humongous deal to the addressing party when I tell them, “I am a lesbian woman.” Each and every time they act like it is insanity, like they have NEVER EVER even heard of lesbian woman or seen the way a lesbian woman presents herself. I have also been yelled at by teenage girls who were so excited to yell at me that I am a “DYKE.” I prefer the term homosexual woman or lesbian. But that is simply who I am, not like I actually have or will ever have a girlfriend lol. I guess I could say I am a genderqueer, but I’d never ever actually want to mimic a dude – because like I said, I am proud to be a woman. Although I would take a hysterectomy because I don’t want to have children and plan to never use my sacky sack, or a mastectomy because I do not like my breasts and will never need for birthing purpose.
I see no reason for me to entertain testosterone therapy or sexual reassignment surgery, because although I love to be “the man” in a lesbian relationship, having a surgeoned penis will not get me any closer to being able to impregnate a woman. Sure, if being born a man for myself meant being heterosexual and being able to give my beautiful lover a baby, then I would take that – but it is not something you can choose! So, as you can see, testosterone therapy is not a viable option, and no I will never be able to give that to a woman. Or be able to have it so swell and easy like heterosexual men do. I am currently high on the idear that one time I believe I have produced sperm. Which makes me wonder, maybe I am a sort of hermaphrodite. I had complications in my childhood years where I had some sort of hernia or something, I was thinking possibly it to be undescended testes. I used to have long hair and I could pass for a woman if I still did and wore women’s clothing, but that is just not how I like to do it. I do begin to fashion the idea that I may be XXXY or XXY that left me with the “undescended testes” that were surgeoned and the female genitalia. My parents were older and my grandfather was older older when birthing my mother, which also he was 20 some years older than his wife. And he migrated from Sweden. My mom also tried divine intervention because she wanted a girl for her last child when all my fathers others were male. Which means, probably if my mother wouldn’t have forcefully demanded her body to produce a female, I probably would have been a boy! All in all, it does make sense that I am very lesbian.
So because they cannot perform in a regular old-fashioned heterosexual relationship, this means they deserve to be raped or murdered or made into slaves? I just can’t believe it. GENE RESEARCH IS EVEN BEGINNING TO SHOW HOMOSEXUALITY IS SHOWING BECAUSE OF A GENE – WHICH IS INHERITED FROM PARENTS CAUSING HOMOSEXUALITY (AT LEAST IN MALES) – THE GENE IS XQ28.
These young gender experimenting girls are way too young and should not have to deal with that because these rapists are closeted homosexuals via media stimulation and boredom, instead of true homosexuals, due to genes or whatever – WHO can’t come to terms with them being a “fairy prncess” that they gotta find these manly looking woman to simulate them cause they can pretend they are a boy while they rape them, BUT – ARE NOT AS STRONG as a boy would be to BE ABLE TO evade!! If I were to ever have met that woman, me and her could’ve got along very well. I even would have married her if that worked out. She was so beautiful.
I know that I can only fall in love with woman, but that will get me nowhere. I am unable to give the woman a baby and I can never be a father or husband. Unless, I am a miracle worker and I am producing sperm. Which can never be a discredited idea because science. Plus, I think I may be a hermaphrodite and feel that my body may be producing sperm. Ah, it is so hard and I have no further purpose here. Basically to just keep learning and stick with my hobbies – but it can never make a real significance b/c that’s all I will ever be able to do. Even if I could learn about everything and have vast reserves of knowledge, it all boils down to Adam and Eve and the exponential growth of his love for her pubis. No, but population is crazy and scares me and I always wish we were at a sturdy 2.5 billion population. NOTHING good about EXCESS! YEAH IM SURE EVERY GOD DARND ONE OF YOU IS SO GOD DARND SPECIAL THAT YOU ALL NEED 6 SCREAMING MANIACS A PIECE! lil freaky spider hatchin like bitches. I know… You AAAAAALLLLLL love your children *wink* *nudge* BECAUSE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU IS THAAAAAT SPECIAL! AND YOU ALSO ALL NEED 100,000$/YEAR SALARY! YEAH KEEP WISHIN THAT WHEN YOU ALL BE SHOOTING OUT 20 KIDS A MINUTE WHOM ALL ARE PHOTOCOPIED AND WILL TAKE THE POSITION YOU WANT UNTIL YOU’RE FORCED TO BE A DAM SLAVE FOR 5$/HR.
Anyhow, if you do sex abuse work or help people who feel victimized, I can send you a document recording my (sometimes) terrible situation and maybe you can help me work through this.
Um. What can I say.
You’ve just been rick-rolled
2 of my rapists came back to me in a dream. It was very disturbing. So I gashed a chunk out of my head with a metal pole.
I’ve wanted and have been ready to take my life for about 15 years now. I don’t know why I haven’t yet. I am in no way religious whatsoever, I have no faith tomorrow will be a better, I can’t say I’ve had a single good day in my life, but have had many terrible days. When should I do it? Life just gets worse every year. I could always kill myself now or hold off a few years. I am tired of simply holding off, I have been holding off for 15 years. I am not willing to take therapy, I believe to be a waste of time for the stupid and naive. They have been trying to force me on/off into therapy since I came out as a homosexual 15 years ago.
How is there a universe created? How is there planets? How is there Earth and forest and ocean? How are there whales? How is there sea creatures, random like urchins? How is there monkey, giraffe, bear, elephants? Do they make animals in a lab? Why do some people think humans come from ape when rhinos didn’t come from hippopotomus or dolphins probably didn’t come from fucking whales? Why are there such incredible differences between species of animal? There is more of a difference between different types of animals but plants have less of a difference still variation but not as drastic as say the difference between a giraffe and hippopotomus. How do human and animal very first begin to be brought to life? How did they form out of nothing? How did they form organs? Why do lungs, heart, brain function like they do?
First off, why did even planet form at all! and where did all the gases and chemicals come from? How could it have started from NOTHING AT ALL! How come there are other universes in different galaxies with different planets that we can’t reach? Why is there a stratosphere that we can’t cross? Why is there a church and a bible? What is the first book ever written?
How could even a first human be formed? How could a human be born without a prior womb to grow from? Why are humans more intelligent than other animals? Why did birds form? Why is there different eye colors? Why is there life at all on Earth? WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THOSE OTHER GALAXIES!!!
I read some of origin of species but it never answer my questions very well.
Do you think this life is real? What could happen after death if life itself is miraculous and inconceivable? Anything could happen. I had an idea that you fly out to another galaxy and then you start a different life form. I had a vision once that your soul is kept in a little box until it is released to a different world. Which would have to be inside this same entire universe because there couldn’t be anything else outside the conceivable universe? But not in this galaxy! on another planet in a different galaxy. Of course there is other strangeness in different galaxies that is alive because life is easy to create I suppose with it being so easy to maintain even when not wanted. It should be very easy to die with how simple life is created in a snap of a finger. Is why I think that there has to be much simplicity in forming such diverse species but it just looks complicated.
Life must not be incredible because it is so easy to stay alive if it were really that incredible you would have to work so hard to maintain it. You don’t even have to try to live you just do!! What I think is that maybe the creator wants to communicate but it cannot speak our language so we cannot hear it. Maybe he will speak if we listen. Maybe he can speak in the weather. Maybe the creator was just a drop in the ocean.
Dying is just as easy as living there is no work to it at all.
I was thinking maybe we are created in. Factory as some robotics
“Maybe the world is another planet’s hell. – Aldous Huxley”
Stumbled across this the other day.. at first it didn’t seem like so much but then the beat picks up around 6 minutes or so, and it might just be the best instrumental riffs I’ve ever heard. I’ve bought the album and this is the last song on it for a reason. The album is The Stage and definitely one to check out for music lovers. You will not be disappointed. Not to mention a soliloquy of the worshipped Neil DeGrasse Tyson to end it all of. Listen up and tell me how you feel on his sermon.
Finially, as I am sure that life is more trouble than it was ever worth
I thought I would leave this here
It is nothing too special, at all, but it is all I have.
I was trying to record an album but I could never get the devil off my back,
so all I have is this poetry and a guitar I can’t pick up.
I already sold my keyboard and my record collection.
The Fleshy Bones
An Album For Kids That Live On The Moon (Copyright)
THE DARK SIDE OF THE EARTH
Without further A-doobie
Beyond a shadow of an ounce
And with that I rest my bong
Poking Smot; Binking Dringe
Everybody can do drugs
But not everyone can be drugs
Are You Ready, Freddy?
And then there was light
..And then there was sound
..And then there was color
..And then there was Ocean
..And then there was Mountain
..And then there was The Sun
..And then there was The Moon
..And then there was The Solar System
..And then there was The Father
..And then there was The Son
..And then there was The Holy Ghost
..And then there was Arithmetic
..And then there was Science
..And then there was Love
..And then there was War
Death before Dishonor
A Captain Lost at Sea in Solitude
Every day I wake up feeling like Great Britain
A stranger strolling the villas of Notre Dame Kingdom.
I’ve wandered the plotted grid of your mind
Like I’m trekking the Sierra Nevada
Ascended the Himalayas
Then I approached The Pier
Dived into your Aquatics
Sailed Olympic lengths
Through your Black Seas
And Gibraltar Straights
Climbed your Eiffel Tower
And sky-dived down
Set up camp –
Lived only on your twigs & berries
Slept wrapped in my sleeping bag
Beside your creeks
If only to wake up to your songbird tweet
My life in the grooves and tombs of your hands
A cryptic stare
A bedeviled glare
PLEURS DE JOIE
“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?”
A slow dance. A biblical romance.
Slipping, sliding through the shadows
When you think no one is watching
The spirit is moving you
A silly game. A broken toy.
A starry night you perch on your tower
Connecting the dots – All the stars that shower
Shooting towards each other
Like a game of tag
In graceful haste, I strike a cord
When the world has come to none,
There will only be but one, Juliet.
Bubble-gum lips and cotton-candy eyes
A home cooked meal and her voice a harp strumming goodnight
Light cast all around her on Summer Days
A clear-skied Crepuscular Ray
Melting at her feet, there is me.
First Come, First Serve
A wilted Antherium in the noon-day Sun
Always traveling at the ‘Speed of Light’
Absolute Fucking Zero
The Big Break
It was quite the thing to see
From Riches to Rags
Heart in the Wrong Place
Age of Technology
Burning a hole in my pocket
Drop it like ‘The Dow’
Hostage to the State, ‘In Vein’
Sadism and Masochism
A Sick, Strange World
Destroyed Youth, Forced Oppression
Faking It Every Day
The Muck and the Mire
A Puppet on a String
All Wheel Drive, Full Throttle
I Hear the Traveling Circus!
I Stumble into a Sarcophagus
And Bury The Hatchet
Of The Fretful Countess
The Haunted Estates
Of a Supernatural Apparition
The Non-Entity of a False Witness
Endearing Reflection exemplifying
A Listless Dejection
After the Atomic Bomb
A Quarantined Contaminant
I am the Last Man Alive
A Sordid Ghost, To No Avail
Distressed and Skilled to Possess
Genocide on the Horizonless Sphere
The Demotivated Abduction of
A Pericardium’s Muscle
This Copper Cloud reminds
An uproarious Ceremonium
Dedicated to Mustard Gas
Miasmatical in the Trenches
Always Ringing at the ‘Speed of Sound’
Absolute Fucking Zero
I just discovered Kratom at a head shop. Apparently it is completely legal. Is almost better than marijuana being that the high is really mentally clear other than weed when you get brain fog. Although if you can’t smoke weed you still miss the head fog when high. So far so good because it has helped me not have dreams because I always have fckin weird nightmares. Except I did have a strange nightmare the other day but that might have been the ceremonial knik knik I smoked. Don’t take over 6 grams. I took like 10 gs and puked. But other than that still real fun time. I see it kind of like k2 (spice) before it became illegal. I was thinking stock up before they shut it down (lol) hope they don’t but still good to stock up in case. 25$ will last you like a week of kratom. Probably gonna be the next big thing. They have all these different strains and everything!
I’ve been thinking a lot lately and I’ve been feeling a bit like every moment of my life has been a waste of time. I’ve tried to change things because I’m advanced in the old “fake it to make it” so I’ve stopped that and have grown much more cynical. I still see it everywhere around me. In other news, I feel like I am failing myself. I don’t know to feel bad about it quite yet because I don’t want to get too wrapped around anything in particular and I guess that’s why I have chosen (unconsciously) to fail myself. I feel I have failed myself because I stopped studying and I stopped reading, I truly am isolated (as much as I can be and/or is permitted) to the bounds of my own mind and/or imagination at this point. I know I have failed myself in other ways. I have lost that feeling, I suppose. A part of me feels like I shouldn’t ingest too much or I might sell myself something. But is it better than the alternative? I keep turning on and off. Yes I am the one who has been suicide positive for the major of my life. One day I am ready, the next day I forget about it (or cope, if you prefer) the next day I snap and I curse the wait time I have left and then the next day I regret and try to forgive myself. That doesn’t mean that I have found a reason or desire to actually remain alive. I mean it’s already been as bad as it can get, I presume to get on with it lest I waste more of my life. They already bought me.
I can say I have found one thing I enjoy. I enjoy strangers. Strangers of the right variant, of course. And I enjoy myself being a stranger. Gives you room to grow .. when you are not backed into your usual corner. Of course there are not many strangers here where I am placed. Quite the wicked place so far…
I can’t say I am not ready to let it go, but I can say that postponing is right up my alley. I will only grow angrier. I can tell you I’m already very, very angry. Not in the casual use and/or what you’d imagine when you hear the word “ANGRY”, but in a different sense I suppose. I guess that’s the only emotion that’s really left at the end here of my life.
I don’t have much to say this morning, but I noticed it was a little lonely over here.
Something that is it’s own cause – a term traditionally applied to God
Funny because that is indeed relative to my name. Just a little fun trivia here.
Causa sui (Latin pronunciation: [kawsa s?i], meaning “cause of itself” in Latin) denotes something which is generated within itself. This concept was central to the works of Baruch Spinoza, Sigmund Freud, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Ernest Becker, where it relates to the purpose that objects can assign to themselves. In Freud and Becker’s case, the concept was often used as an immortality vessel, where something could create meaning or continue to create meaning beyond its own life.
Norman O. Brown, in his masterpiece, Life Against Death, argues Sigmund Freud‘s Oedipal complex is essentially the causa Sui (father-of-oneself) project where, after the traumatic recognition that we are separate from the mother; that we are ‘other,’ we seek for reunification with the mother.
In traditional Western theism, even though God cannot be created by any other force or being, he cannot be defined self-caused (causa sui) or uncaused, because this concept implies the Spinozian pantheistic idea of becoming, which contrasts with the belief of scholastic theology that God is incapable of changing.
Changing implies development, and since God is to be considered the Absolute Perfection, there is no further need to change: he is the so-called actus purus or aseity. Instead, the recent process theology inserts this concept among the attributes of God in Christianity.
So I guess in searching for a meaning, my suicide would be in this format “a cause of itself”
Clocks me in at 13 years I’ve been sitting on no goal other than committing. I’ve been trying to kill myself for almost 13 years, been depressed probably 18 years. I think it’s finally almost over! I wouldn’t be so ecstatic, but I think after waiting around 13 years for the ability and opportunity to commit, I’ve finally found the perfect one. Meaning I hope to leave the house in no later than 45 days. Please pray for me. Please pray that this works and I can end my life and die in peace!! I know it sounds stupid that I’m asking for prayers, but I really need to not fail this time around. I’ve been trapped in this situation for far too long.. It’s been a long time since I sent up prayers on ending my life, but now it’s all I need. I know I will die one way or another, but I need this to be peaceful.. I cannot suffer another traumatic attempt failure!!
The date keeps getting pushed back. Now I am rather neck deep but keeping my head above, just enough to not lose consciousness. I have lots on my plate, a lot of scary things, I have no control but all I can hope is for the best. I do not want the best though, only something that isn’t completely horrifying. I’m still trembling in fear of the absolute worst. If you’d have ever asked a younger me if I thought it would be this bad, I would have laughed and said, “You’re worrying for no reason, everything will be fine.” I guess the creeping sensation I would get was a warning and I had every right to be wary, every right to question leaving before it got much much worse.
I find myself in the state now, like I am incapable of action. This has been a problem for me for it seems about a year and some months. The last time I peeked my head above the tide, was when I walked to the cliff that I wrote about on here. I seem unable to go out and face the day. Yet I am also unable to end my life despite the misery. I try to build myself up, hoping I can go back to the person I once was who was capable of action. Even if the action was only to commit. Now I simply do not matter, I am covered in dust, I am wholly disconnected. I have to convince myself each day that I even exist.
I try not to worry, but if I can write then at least I can see my last days as not completely wasted. I only appear on here when I am in complete agony.
I come to find that I view here trying to find someone else who has wrote my story and have written it completely and full enough for me to feel satisfied with it. My dissatisfaction apprehends me when I see, it is nothing of mine own that it is not my word.
With my inability to act, I try to find something here that really touches me and forces me into movement, something that will come to tell me, me personally, some feeling of higher power that will explain it all to me. That will tell me it is time to act. That I don’t have to worry any longer and that it is my time to follow him home.
Until then, I will sadly have to get in line and follow along with the mortals to more unsatisfaction.
I have not writ the laws of nature and I do not try to play God. My words previously condemned that no one will assist one in ending the life and that it is in one’s hands to get the job done. If I am correct, then why am I incapable of action? Am I too traumatized to act? Do I really want the mortals to control my life?
If I commit, they win
I am at the stage where after years & years & years of preparation I am ready to commit.. now it just feels like I don’t want to rush it.. like maybe there’s something I will enjoy so much that can lead me out of the world on a beautiful page or maybe an intellectual page..
I try to structure my life around this last day, yet I am always bending to someone else’s sadistic desires with goals of what exactly? To leave me miserable?
I guess this is strange for me because I feel so unhappy.. I should be “in a fuzz” about it. I’ve always thought maybe I’d like to go out while high on drugs because that makes things feel more beautiful than they are, and it makes you more capable of taking risks (if it’s a worthwhile risk than that is good, right?) but while waiting for that opportunity, the time just drags on and on. I guess drug use was pretty much a part of my identity, a part of my identity that is currently denied. Because we don’t see eye to eye, but how on earth would I prefer to see from a viewpoint I don’t agree with?
I am an experienced recreational drug user because I have been planning this day for some time. I guess the drugs do the trick to fill the void. If you don’t take scheduled drugs, you couldn’t believe how wholesomely they fill the void. Ready or not, the void is here, and most of my thoughts seem to be: “Is this feeling of solemnity only curable by illegal controlled substance consumption?”
It’s a contemptible waste of time. The soul has left the room, the spirits are diseased. How can they waste this one precious life so effectively? Not only am I laid to waste. Nothing interests me anymore. I used to enjoy expanding and testing my intellect, seeing how many scholarly novels I could read in a month and that would make me satisfied. I used to envision giant projects and feel apt at ease to complete them. Now I realize it really doesn’t matter because it’s all wrong, any way you have it, this life will always be wrong.
As I attempt to fill the shoes of someone I am not and snuff out the person I am. I can’t find her, I don’t know what they did to her. Well, I know what they did to her but I can’t accept that and try to block it out. (Starts with M – continues with URDE – ends with R) Maybe I should just forget her? Now I wait here grave as can be. In order to kill myself, I’d need the mood to be right, of course. Ohhhh, how wrong the mood can feel. With such detached interests and no place to call home, the mood becomes worse.
“If you could only feel how I feel!” The little people scream at me. “Why can’t you enjoy what I enjoy?!” They patronize. “Life is beautiful and there is pleasure to find in the simplest of things and pleasure is my favorite!!” The little people win every time.
I could wait around here forever and I’d still probably never get the mood right. A small town and the strangers grow uglier through the years. The weather is cold. I can’t drive and I don’t have a nice car. I don’t need a nice car to commit but being able to drive kind of makes or breaks the suicide. It can be an ugly death or a beautiful death. I don’t want to die an ugly death. Do I have a choice? Money doesn’t matter to me, but they are demanding it. Do they think I sh*t gold coins? I’ve never had anything of value. I sit on the toilet for 50 hours a week pushing as hard as I can hoping that gold nuggets will come out. I need my drugs. I don’t need you and I don’t need gold nuggets, but I need my drugs and I need to get the hell out of here.
Anyway the reason I come here is to ask, how are you coping, how do you imagine spending your last day were you to commit? I mean I could die right now without a second thought, but you’d think there must be a beautiful day beforehand? I can’t find a beautiful day and I can’t force one either. Hard to have a beautiful day when trapped in a basement.
Deby says: “Picture a mountain. Lofty Peak. Slope. Trees. Plateau. A beautiful, large mountain with a snow base.” You are beyond words in this meditation. But you still have words. “I hate this mountain.” – Not every one.
You are a mountain. You suddenly have no words. You change as a mountain within season, survival renders as light or as darkness. Our lives change, but the mountain remains amidst the universal web. The weather has no personality yet is as much invisible as the next galaxy.
“You are a beautiful blanket of seasonal colours.” You only live once. True/False?
You are a Tweaker. Bugs are crawling on your skin. Are you tripping, Man? Life is on my drug. The universe takes one with me. Mountains take a dump into a reservoir as I take mine with a grain of snow. I like the chemical brain.
The Bible. That is, the ability (capacity) to understand it.
Preston’s Pills. Phillip’s Almighty Cocaine Friday. The Beaten Bush. The Middle Path. The Grey Matter.
This song is basically my life, except the stanza when he is talking about someone leaving him.. I’ve never experienced anything like that