I’m trying to understand the human condition
and so type “suicide” into my search bar
I need to understand, you see.
When close to death, when they think they’re ready for death, when they think it’s near,
I think that is when we are at our most human.
Because it’s raw and ugly and a ruthless natural process.
And it happens because the chemicals in somebody’s brain got fucked up.
That fascinates me.
Or it used to.
I think maybe now I understand.
I’m beginning to.
Recently I’ve been drifting.
I don’t feel like there’s a purpose to anything anymore.
And the world is so big that is scares me.
It’s swallowing me whole.
And it is so, so big.
Its strange because
I can remember exactly when it happened.
It was two days after a girl had left.
She said she wasn’t sure she could love,
And that I loved too much
To the point of suffocation.
Two days afterwards.
I had a packet of pills in my pocket in the hopes that I would go numb.
It hurt. It was painful.
It wasn’t anything heavy, not even behind the counter stuff.
I just kept taking them and taking them and soon none were left.
That night I went home and nearly threw up, but
It felt good.
Because it was physical, something physical to explain why my head hurt.
That felt logical to me.
I wandered through the hallway of my house,
Stared at the ceiling in my bedroom,
Went into the garden and sat in the cold.
It was so vapid.
But it made sense.
For that next week I drank
And made sure that at every opportunity I was drunk.
Now I just drift.
I wait for things to pass by.
I’m waiting to find something to live for again, wondering
“Was that girl my lifeline? Has it now snapped?”
Dangerously floating into things that scare me,
Narrowly avoiding everything by fractions.
Now I think I understand the need for death.
It’s a logical end to a chain of events.
It isn’t always a cry for help
More of a shout into the void.
A need for an answer.
Or a logical solution.
Maybe writing this makes me just another shout.
But noise has to go somewhere.