Nov. 13, 2001
�Suicide is an interesting subject. It's something I condone whole
heartily for anyone to do, but it's not something I want to do. Presently at
least.�
�Recently I got ejected from a situation I felt very secure and
vulnerable in. Seems to happen to me a lot whenever I feel that safe. But it's
not a new thing, so I suppose I should live through it. But even though I feel
like run over dog shit right now, I probably won't kill myself. True there have
been many times in my life that I have wanted to, now being a prime moment for
those thoughts, but I realized something down the road in my past that made me
wake up to reality ... I don't want to die. I just want the pain to go away.
�I've found the answer to life's love and relationship problems. For me
at least: As long as I have friends, pets, alcohol, some good pot, and some
occasional sex/intimate moments in bed, I feel that I have no need for love. Basically
what's the use? We just want to cure the desire to not be lonely and couple it
with a feeling of wonderful security. And what's so secure about love? Nothing.
�If you find the one, who's to say he/she won't cheat on you? Who's to
say he/she won't lie to you constantly? Who's to say he/she won't die suddenly,
leaving you with bills to pay, a funeral to plan, and legal situations regarding
belongings and cherished keepsakes? We all die eventually and if you stay with
your loved one for the rest of your life, they will leave you one day anyway.
I'd say the same thing about pets, but they're too cute to ridicule.
�And now that I am dejected from a safe, secure place, I feel the desire
to indulge in death and finality. But I won't. I don't want to die. I want the
pain to end. And once you go through enough pain, you'll feel numb to it all.
And that's a good thing, because pain, though deliciously exciting as a muse, is
not something I like to live with for the rest of my life.
