When I was 16

Via post secret

Who would say the deepest desire is perhaps to give the responsibility for one's desire to someone else ?

 Who would say the deepest desire is perhaps to give the responsibility for one's desire to someone else ? 

"Whatever you want, you'll have it. Go get it and pay for it."

 "Whatever you want, you'll have it. Go get it and pay for it."

Bad habit

I think vomiting when thinking about your own existence is a bad habit. 

(20 days late)

Devoided

Devoided of any inspiration or creativity, I'm still trying to find some kind of stability that will take me to new waves and forms of compatibility with the world. Needless to say... no new deviation.

... I feel deep hatred towards those who I once loved.

Is it Christmas approaching that makes the sublime smell of deep dark Tartarus so irresistible?

me, the winter lover, lives now in contradiction; for as my most natural and defining event of the year nears closer (the winter solstice) I find more and more hatred towards me and those around me.

My nature contradicts the artificial environment I've been placed. Either that or I am really helium's strayed disciple...

Has the sun and summer really been my home all along?

Can’t help but admit that I have always wondered about the light in long blonde hair and the look and taste of wet bare skin.

If summer is my real nature, I can’t help but say that my true nature in fact makes out of me feel most alien within my surroundings; for I have not felt more inadequate than under the light and heat of our systems central star.

For now I can only say that as days grow shorter, my despise of those around gets bigger... and I yearn for loneliness, snow, and northern lights almost unbearable.

I hope hell is cold, for is where I most desire to go... since in the warmth of heaven I would just feel like a smashed cockroach on the wall... disgusting, out of place, hated... and still moving my little antennas, keeping the attention of those who have murdered me, all in awe and puzzled with the mystery of how was it that without any part or limb working, I managed to keep on holding to my fragile sense... smell..

I smell the sublime dead heavy fog from Tartarus calling on to me... yet I see no entrance, or way to say good bye to those once loved and are now hated...

I repeat myself. 

(40 days late)

"My heart is finally content... but my art will suffer"

I need to feel less... how do I feel less? I was watching these documentaries on emotions... people who act on their emotions are even more addicted to the... People, who express their rage openly, are more addicted to it...

I do not express my rage... I bottle it up inside, till I want to die... and then... I cut myself...

I don’t know how to scream... or yell... I have never yelled at anyone...

I talked to Emma today... well we just said hi... and he reminded me of something... a year ago... I did not masturbate...

Cumming with only wedgies and water is really hard... like really hard in some cases it can take... hours... 

(20 days late)

Quantum Suicide

Elizabeth Everett, daughter of Hugh Everett the father of the quantum theory of multiple worlds. Committed suicide with a pill overdoes. Inside the note left behind it read: 

Funeral requests: I prefer no church stuff. Please burn me and DON'T FILE ME. Please sprinkle me in some nice body of water. or the garbage, maybe that way I'll end up in the correct parallel universe to meet up w/ Daddy

The Werther Effect: The Esthetics of Suicide

 

The Werther Effect: The Esthetics of Suicide

Sick Jokes

 Top 10 reasons why suicide is better than sex:

10. You can still commit suicide when you're drunk off your ass.

9. You don't have to worry about 'safe suicide.'

8. Nobody wakes you up to ask for more.

7. No limit to the number of techniques.

6. Nobody ever asks for a long-term suicide commitment.

5. Who cares if you get a disease?

4. Doing it by yourself is just as good!

3. Easier than finding a date on a Saturday night.

2. Nobody ever complains about 'bad suicide.' 

And the top reason...

1. YOU don't have to clean up the mess!

by Tina Mancuso over at http://monster-island.org/tinashumor/index.html

Yunalesca - A public love letter

Sometimes, I have this feeling... you all know how hard is for me to know exactly what I'm feeling. I get this feeling for someone, that I can’t precisely put a name on it. It’s a sense... of vastness... the same sense of vastness that is produced by suddenly lying down on the floor and looking up to the immense celestial vault. It’s all so big; it’s all so magnificent... so out of grasp.

A careful study of scientist through history will result in many of them, if not all of them, reaching to out god when they found themselves at the very edge of their knowledge... they all at some point called upon god, because their understanding of the world was limited... there must be some divine, greater than life, force behind it.

Now, of course it’s easy, if not common, to get this feeling when looking at the stars, the movement of the planets, the tide and waves of the ocean. All of these things... of course produce this overwhelming, tear filling emotion.

However, I dare now say I have found it somewhere else.... and odd place.

Sometime around winter 2007 I went online to a certain forum and search for Yunalesca there. 88 messages he had posted since 2003, a fact that I had quickly forgotten. Almost a year later, I had fallen in love with this very Yunalesca. I fell, in love with the sweet prince. And in certain occasions I had felt this vertiginous feeling I'm talking about inside me when thinking too much about him, or talking to him... yet I think I never dared faced my fear and looked straight at it. I had always took a deep breath and recoiled.

But something happened a week ago. An emotion this big, so vast had been approaching for almost a week.

I know... this sound insane, but I swear I have been having the feeling I'm going to feel something... But that's how it was... I knew it was coming,

When my heart broke oh so very easily with silence... I wondered if I had gone insane. Then, when later something like picking up the phone felt like being spit on the face... I knew it was probably the very end of emotions that was coming near.

Then after almost 12 hours together and not talking and hating and fighting, a single hug erased it all and fixed it all... then when he jumped excited after seeing the batman toys on burger king and when he joined me to buy superwoman... and listened carefully for a story that did not make much sense. Then... I knew it was something spectacular.

I should have seen it coming... when while I was going for a coke while he waited for the sandwich it seemed like an awful distance to be apart from. Should’ve seen it coming, when he and I agreed we wanted the same thing on the food court XD or when we were looking for an exotic dish... and it turned out to be a panzerotti... (I think I cannot think about that situation and smile with all my heart.)

I probably should have known I was going to miss him 24/7 without rest or sleep... when I saw him getting drenched in the park, or how he laughed at me falling down in the fountain (I really did fall down unintentionally) and how incredibly hot he looked switching pants on the Emo store.

I was sure I was going to explode emotionally soon when I was looking straight into his eyes at night, like I did on the ride back home and when you chuckled every time I lost my wallet. And with the surprised eyes you stared at me because I was oh so drunk... and how comfortable his lap was while he played videogames.

And when you looked down to the floor when I saw you wearing you Ben10 boxers in the shower.

Today I went back to this forum... and looked at the 88 messages he had written there. And it hit me.

He. Exists.

He was there before me.

He is there without me...

He is unreachable.

All this messages written long before he came into my life... they are his. Yet I don't know the person who wrote them. I can’t turn back time and meet him... I can’t figure out what was on his head... did he suffer? Was he joyful? Was he happy? Even oddly enough... why do I feel love and care for the words of this being that I did not know back then and do not know right now as he is now only the one I do know.

I once said... it takes a lifetime. To know someone. But it’s not true... it takes more. Not even in all my lifetime will I ever get to know that Yunalesca that wrote and spoke so few before me. It comforts me that I believe in more than one lifetime to know that there will be another one where I can know him completely.

This is probably the weirdest love letter I've ever written. And I say love letter, because of all feelings only love could measure up and proclaim this one I own.

And this is probably a very long dull love letter for everyone indeed, but us. But I don't think I could bear speak to him right now... I don’t think I could lose the knot in my throat, or get a hold of my tears...

On his presence, all so big... so sacred, so divine

What kind of love letter would this be if I didn't say what all love letters attempt to convey?

I love you. 

(10 days late)

Life was too small to contain me...

 

Suicidal Fish

 

The Suicidal and the Devil

The Suicidal and the Devil.

 A guy is standing in the middle of a bridge and on the edge of the void. He carries in his hands a large rock that is tied to his neck by a rope and is about to jump.

He does it because fortune simply turned its back on him: his wife left with his best friend, his daughter got into drugs, the bank seized him and took away his house and car, the maid stole his jewels. All at once, there is no other way out for him. So ...

Just at that moment and without knowing how a dark silhouette appears, barely distinguishing a cape, a top hat, and his enigmatic and deep voice stops him:

- Hey! What are you going to do? Stop!

- I'm going to jump into the river, my life has no meaning. Do not stop me.

- Wait a minute, tell me your problems, maybe I can help you. The strange figure with an enigmatic voice tells him.

- Help? And how are you going to be able to help me, don't you see that… And the man begins to tell it all his misfortunes.

After listening to him in a reflective silence, the dark character tells him:

- Get down from there I can solve all your problems. I am the Devil and there is nothing that I cannot do, we would only have to reach a small agreement.

- Do you want my soul? Asks the suicidal.

- No man that was before, now I settle for bodies. You just have to let me fuck you in the ass and voila, all your problems disappear.

- You're crazy, never, ever! I'm sorry but I'd rather die.

- Are you sure you prefer to die? Keep in mind you will have all the women you want, money to spare, houses and cars as many as you want, in addition to servants willing to please you in your slightest whims, think about it, do not be impulsive.

The man thinks about it and consents, after all with that all his problems were solved. He then accedes to the desire of the dark character and surrenders to him.

When he already feels that the thing is reaching its climax, the stranger in black asks the man between gasps:

- Uff, man, and how old are you?

- 45 The suicide responds

- Ha! 45 years and you still believe in devils? asshole.

All fled, all done

All fled, all done, so lift me on the pyre;

The feast is over and the lamps expire.

11 June 1936. Robert Ervin Howard, the creator of Conan the barbarian  and regarded as the father of the sword and sorcery subgenre, learned his mother, who had been ill with tuberculosis her entire life, had entered a coma from which she was not expected to wake, he walked out to his car and shot himself in the head. The note was typed and found in Howard's wallet. The lines were probably taken from the poem The House of Cæsar by Viola Garvin

"Life only has meaning when you look back at it. It's a shame we have to live it forward."

 

 

- What do you want? - What everyone wants: to live life, wake up excited, be happy. "

 - What do you want?

- What everyone wants: to live life, wake up excited, be happy. " 

Seesaw and Ice Cube

 

Bill Thomas

"Suicide"

Suicide bunny

 

by Andy Riley

I am leaving you with your worries in this sweet cesspool

 Dear World, I am leaving because I am bored. I feel I have lived long enough. I am leaving you with your worries in this sweet cesspool. Good luck.

George Sanders decided to die on April 25, 1972 in a hotel in Barcelona. Don George found his way to nowhere thanks to the guidance of an overdose of Nembutal. He was incredibly and inexcusably misogynistic. 

Fade to black

 Fade to Black

Life it seems, will fade away

Drifting further every day

Getting lost within myself

Nothing matters no one else

I have lost the will to live

Simply nothing more to give

There is nothing more for me

Need the end to set me free

Things arent what they used to be

Missing one inside of me

Deathly lost, this can't be real

Cannot stand this hell I feel

Emptiness is filling me 

To the point of agony

Growing darkness taking dawn

I was me, but now He's gone

No one but me can save myself, but it's too late 

Now I can't think, think why I should even try

Yesterday seems as though it never existed

Death greets me warm, now I will just say good-bye