You ought to know, you were my best friend. You were. I know you loved me. I loved you.No one should have gone through what we went through, but we did. And it kills me to think of it.But I didn’t love you like you loved me. I don’t hate you for that. It just makes me sorry, that there isn’t someone else who could love you better.I know when you think about how I went, you’ll get it. I was always uneasy about being alive. The idea of being dead makes me feel clear. When I think of it. It makes me think peace, peace, peace. It makes me happy. I am looking forward to it, to the absence of everything. And so I want you to be happy for me, that this is better for me. That I found what I needed. I know you won’t be. But it’s the last thing I want. You happy.
Tag: suicide
And I do. I do wonder, I think about it all the time. What it would be like to kill myself. Because I never really know, I still can’t tell the difference, I’m never quite certain whether or not I’m actually alive. I sit here every single day. Run, I said to myself. Run until your lungs collapse, until the wind whips and snaps at your tattered clothes, until you’re a blur that blends into the background. Run, Juliette, run faster, run until your bones break and your shins split and your muscles atrophy and your heart dies because it was always too big for your chest and it beat too fast for too long and you run.Run run run until you can’t hear their feet behind you. Run until they drop their fists and their shouts dissolve in the air. Run with your eyes open and your mouth shut and dam the river rushing up behind your eyes. Run, Juliette.Run until you drop dead. Make sure your heart stops before they ever reach you. Before they ever touch you.Run, I said.
Once upon a time there was a young prince who believed in all things but three. He did not believe in princesses, he did not believe in islands, he did not believe in God. His father, the king, told him that such things did not exist. As there were no princesses or islands in his father’s domains, and no sign of God, the young prince believed his father.But then, one day, the prince ran away from his palace. He came to the next land. There, to his astonishment, from every coast he saw islands, and on these islands, strange and troubling creatures whom he dared not name. As he was searching for a boat, a man in full evening dress approached him along the shore.Are those real islands?’ asked the young prince.Of course they are real islands,’ said the man in evening dress.And those strange and troubling creatures?’They are all genuine and authentic princesses.’Then God must exist!’ cried the prince.I am God,’ replied the man in full evening dress, with a bow.The young prince returned home as quickly as he could.So you are back,’ said the father, the king.I have seen islands, I have seen princesses, I have seen God,’ said the prince reproachfully. The king was unmoved.Neither real islands, nor real princesses, I have seen God,’ said the prince reproachfully.The king was unmoved.Neither real islands, nor real princesses, nor a real God exist.’I saw them!’Tell me how God was dressed.’God was in full evening dress.’Were the sleeves of his coat rolled back?’The prince remembered that they had been. The king smiled.That is the uniform of a magician. You have been deceived.’At this, the prince returned to the next land, and went to the same shore, where once again he came upon the man in full evening dress.My father the king has told me who you are,’ said the young prince indignantly. ‘You deceived me last time, but not again. Now I know that those are not real islands and real princesses, because you are a magician.’The man on the shore smiled.It is you who are deceived, my boy. In your father’s kingdom there are many islands and many princesses. But you are under your father’s spell, so you cannot see them.’The prince pensively returned home. When he saw his father, he looked him in the eyes.Father, is it true that you are not a real king, but only a magician?’The king smiled, and rolled back his sleeves.Yes, my son, I am only a magician.’Then the man on the shore was God.’The man on the shore was another magician.’I must know the real truth, the truth beyond magic.’There is no truth beyond magic,’ said the king.The prince was full of sadness.He said, ‘I will kill myself.’The king by magic caused death to appear. Death stood in the door and beckoned to the prince. The prince shuddered. He remembered the beautiful but unreal islands and the unreal but beautiful princesses.Very well,’ he said. ‘I can bear it.’You see, my son,’ said the king, ‘you too now begin to be a magician.
I didn’t realize there was a ranking.” I said. “Sadie frowned. “What do you mean?” “A ranking,” I said. “You know, what’s crazier than what.” “Oh, sure there is,” Sadie said. She sat back in her chair. “First you have your generic depressives. They’re a dime a dozen and usually pretty boring. Then you’ve got the bulimics and the anorexics. They’re slightly more interesting, although usually they’re just girls with nothing better to do. Then you start getting into the good stuff: the arsonists, the schizophrenics, the manic-depressives. You can never quite tell what those will do. And then you’ve got the junkies. They’re completely tragic, because chances are they’re just going to go right back on the stuff when they’re out of here.” “So junkies are at the top of the crazy chain,” I said. Sadie shook her head. “Uh-uh,” she said. “Suicides are.” I looked at her. “Why?” “Anyone can be crazy,” she answered. “That’s usually just because there’s something screwed up in your wiring, you know? But suicide is a whole different thing. I mean, how much do you have to hate yourself to want to just wipe yourself out?
God surely did not create us, and cause us to live, with the sole end of wishing always to die. I believe, in my heart, we were intended to prize life and enjoy it, so long as we retain it. Existence never was originally meant to be that useless, blank, pale, slow-trailing thing it often becomes to many, and is becoming to me, among the rest.