I’m considering suicide

I’m considering suicide, not as an escape, not as an adventure, not even as a relief, just as an option like going to class tomorrow or choosing to take the bus or a cab. I’m actually surprised at this now I recall it, other times I had seen it as grand finale, this time was just an option it wasn’t dramatic, it was just something I could do.

People are still shocked when they realize how deeply I loathe myself. I guess they don’t understand it... if it’s hard living with someone you hate; it’s even harder to live being someone you hate.

I keep wishing people would someway analyze me and somehow fix me.... but that isn’t going to happen. 

There is a word in Spanish, I have not yet managed to translate to English: "pudor". It refers to a virtue. The virtue of protecting ones intimacy, spiritual, emotional and physical, and sharing it only with those who are close to us... keeping information about ourselves secret, sometimes through shame, but not always because it’s shameful but because its sacred.

Therefore, someone who shares too much, like me here, lacks this virtue, meaning he does not value the person he/she is. Exposing without any restraints who we are to anyone who passes by with no kind of protection or care… is definitely someone who does not treasure anything inside him worth protecting or saving.

It’s been over 5 years and I still can’t re-read whatever I write in this stupid journal. Because I hate every single word of it... I can’t stand any of these thoughts or feelings...  this is why grammar and syntax suck and that’s why typos blossom...

The truth is I know all this, I’ve analyzed myself in and out all my life... sometimes I feel that there’s actually two "versions of me struggling (if not more) and I find myself asking "what are you going to do?", "why do you hate me so much?"

 Sometimes I’m close to believe I can actually slip... and lose my mind... so I don’t allow myself to answer any of those questions... nor think of who is it that’s really asking them.

(11 days late)

Parting as descent

 Parting as descent 

John Berryman (EEUU, 1914-1972)

They sun rushed up the sky; the taxi flew;
There was a kind of fever on the clock
That morning. We arrived at Waterloo
With time to spare and couldn't find my track.

The bitter coffee in a small cafe
Gave us our conversation. When the train
Began to move, I saw you turn away
And vanish, and the vessels in my brain

Burst, the train roared, the other travellers
In flames leapt, burning on the tilted air
Che si cruccia, I heard the devils curse
And shriek with joy in the place beyond prayer.

On January 7, 1972, John Berryman, poet, fell into the void of death when he launched himself from a bridge over in Minneapolis. With such a death Berryman was perhaps no more than continuing a family tradition started by his father who also voluntarily agreed to death.

I keep searching

My emotional support system has resided in sporadic kind words from strangers who assure me I do have something. Only the people whom I’ve called "friends" (more out of desperation than from real sense of friendship) have told me I’m really not going to make it, and if I do, it will take me years and years.

I know have no serious expectations from publishing anything in the next 5 to 10 years. Actually the thought that I will die without ever seeing my work "out" is even more persistent. I’m haunted by this thought that my work will be meaningless while I live. Even when I think of the moment I finish my book... I think, I must die after or otherwise it will all be just pointless.

I guess, what I’m really hoping is for someone to tell me, that I’m terribly wrong, that I made mistake, a terrible mistake... that writing was not my thing, but to do something else, something I’m truly great at and I just haven’t realized!

I’m back waiting for a savior… 

(31 days late)

The day we rise or fall

 

Through early morning fog I see

visions of the things to be

the pains that are withheld for me

I realize and I can see...

That suicide is painless

it brings on many changes

and I can take or leave it if I please.I try to find a way to make

all our little joys relate

without that ever-present hate

but now I know that it's to late, and...

The game of life is hard to play

I'm going to lose it anyway

the losing card I'll someday lay

so this is all I have to say

The only way to win is cheat

and lay it down before I'm beat

and to another give my seat

for that's the only painless feat

The sword of time will pierce our skins

it doesn't hurt when it begins

but as it works its way on in

the pain grows stronger...watch it grin but...

A brave man once requested me

to answer questions that are key

is it to be or not to be

and I replied 'oh why ask me?''

Cause suicide is painless

it brings on many changes

and I can take or leave it if I please...

and you can do the same thing if you please.

Lyrics by Nick Drake.