First draft suicide notes

Posted: September 14, 2015 in graffiti living
Tags: , , ,

“For those who understand, no explanation is necessary. For those who do not, no explanation will suffice.”

I watch a documentary about Hubert Selby Jr, and alive and moved as it makes me feel, I still think about killing myself.
 
The soul is old and restless and tired. It wants to leave the body and go somewhere quiet and peaceful.
 
Not to rest — to be left alone.
 
So I plan to skip out on life in the next few days, like some people skip out of class or miss a doctor’s appointment.
 
Just to be done with it, you know?
 
No big reason. Just sick of being here still, in pain and dying slow.
 
Everything I write is so fucking toothless it makes me sick to look at it.
 
I can’t escape the fact that I still want to die. That I still don’t feel like I have a choice.
 
That I still can’t fucking write to save my soul.
 
Death won’t come howling out of you like a vengeful ghost.
 
Silence will.
 
I’m not supposed to talk of these things. And anyway, I’ve nothing to say. Fuck off.
 
Famous last words, kid. Famous last words.*

*I wrote that about two years ago. I’m still here — which counts for something. Whenever you feel that way, write a note — but don’t act. Just sleep on it. Tell a friend.

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