Yeah unoriginal title for a fairly unoriginal post.
It amazes me that there are two reactions to a famous person killing themselves. It was a tragedy and we didn’t know.
Yes, loss of a valued life is always a tragedy and no you never can no. If someone feels suicidal, they won’t wear a sign, they won’t tell you hey you I’m going to kill myself today! Why? Because you will try to stop them, you will spout platitudes and simpering cliches, and they might be okay for a few days but they know that the anxiety and depression WILL come back. There is no cure for it, there is no way to make it go completely away.
Sorry, I get a bit soap boxy about this. I am a firm believer in the right to die. I am the firm believer that people have the right to decide when and how they die. I am a firm believer that if your pain has surpassed your ability to cope, you should have the right to say enough.
I happen to live in a country where this is illegal. They lock you up in the worst way possible for trying and not succeeding or for seeking help when you are trying NOT to kill yourself but feel you need someone to talk to about it. You get into trouble for seeking help when you think you might kill yourself. Tell me if that’s not backwards. Personally since my last experience with mental health I prefer just to find someone yummy and well if you don’t know read my other posts.
This is actually not what this post started out as but it was what it became… As a complete aside I would like to share the cutest thing that I have seen in a long time. It is by the Oatmeal and I highly recommend you check them out. Yes, this is a rare promo and link…
I am not sure if everyone is like this or if it is only me but I don’t deal with frustration very well. Allow me to rephrase – I don’t deal with frustration at all, waiting makes me feel as if I am being driven slowly insane by the most diabolical of demons. Most of the tears that I have shed have not been over sadness, joy, or even anger they have been because of frustration.
Like right now my hands twitch with it. It flows through me dancing down my spine and skipping as if it is having fun. It plays with me sending shock waves skipping across my ribs making my heart pound. I have been pacing my cage looking out across the sands watching them build the walls that they think I need. I am aware that my skin doesn’t seem to want to stay on. It slithers and crawls over muscle, bone, and sinew looking for a way to slide off and live on its own.
It pushes aside the darkness which I have become accustom to. Sending it back inside my duplicitous brain. I wonder vaguely if the architects are finished with their twisted spires and rooms that people never come out of. They don’t seem to be building anymore and I wonder if it is safe to go back the the dark pit I call my home. I try the cage door and find it locked. Looking out across the black sand landscape I try to see the one whom I once loved and the one whom I have lost. I wonder if he still lives despite the torture he has endured. There is no way for me to tell.
What I wouldn’t give to have that heart beat against my hand full of life and love. Somehow I think the same slithering things that got me. Parasites that stretch the fabric of reality in their grotesque bodies unnatural for the real world. I wonder vaguely if they will ever break through using my body as a transport device. They skitter along my bones and muscles as if they are restless and waiting to get out. Each day they take more from me and I wonder when they will envelope me causing my personality to die. They have already altered it beyond recognition. I watch the darkness move underneath my skin waiting for me to touch another and infect them so that they can escape the prison I keep them in.
I keep them close to my heart because I have long since started to view them as my darkness but I know they bite, scratch, and claw to infect another. When I touch someone they envelope him corrupting what he feels, who he loves, and any happiness he could bring. It always happens this way, I think this is why I stay away from people. I don’t want to see the my darkness penetrate them like an obscene lover. It fills them up and burrows its way into any cracks so that the person feels the fullness of their presence. Some people cum when they feel it others turn away, still others scream while it pushes too hard against their walls expanding them to the point of a perfect pain. The darkness is good at that. Good at making you feel all those feelings that are considered unnatural, taboo, but oh so good.