Sep 2013
"so you're okay?"
"well, no. not really. not at all. And I apologize for the absolute mess in my place.. fruit flies and all. I've been in a state of depressed apathy at dishes for the past 2 weeks."
"it's a little gross, but nothing I haven't seen before. Listen.. you're gonna be fine. As deep as you're hurting, you're gonna be fine."
"I'm just not sure if I believe that kind of rhetoric anymore. It's almost political; 'you're gonna be okay. don't **** yourself, don't **** yourself,' it'd be an inconvenience to the whole structure of what keeps us alive.. how do we explain this fellows misery to the point of self-inflicted death? how can we keep things flowing if everyone's looking over in anguish at this little ***** corpse?"
"it's always been your choice.. to live or die. it's a spider-wed effect in the way it impacts others, though.. it gives them something heavy that some become anchored with for the rest of their lives."
"then you're telling me to live for everyone else. that's all I live for sometimes; because I can't stand to think how the people who have hurt me would feel about themselves if I took my life. The endless blame game they'd play in their heads.. and the questions those who loved me would have.. not regarding my death.. but regarding their lives in the wake of my blood-stained absence."
"I'm not quite sure what to say to that."
"Listen.. I've considered drowning all of my misery in a nihilistic dance with life.. ***, drugs, shameless self-promotion.. but I just don't think I have it in me to stop loving. And that means I don't have it in me to stop feeling. And that means I don't have it in me to keep living. Not forever. Not for long. I'm just waiting for me to save my life, but I'm not coming, because I don't exist. I'm at the hotel counter waiting for the clerk to come out from the back office so I can check out."
"well, no. not really. not at all. And I apologize for the absolute mess in my place.. fruit flies and all. I've been in a state of depressed apathy at dishes for the past 2 weeks."
"it's a little gross, but nothing I haven't seen before. Listen.. you're gonna be fine. As deep as you're hurting, you're gonna be fine."
"I'm just not sure if I believe that kind of rhetoric anymore. It's almost political; 'you're gonna be okay. don't **** yourself, don't **** yourself,' it'd be an inconvenience to the whole structure of what keeps us alive.. how do we explain this fellows misery to the point of self-inflicted death? how can we keep things flowing if everyone's looking over in anguish at this little ***** corpse?"
"it's always been your choice.. to live or die. it's a spider-wed effect in the way it impacts others, though.. it gives them something heavy that some become anchored with for the rest of their lives."
"then you're telling me to live for everyone else. that's all I live for sometimes; because I can't stand to think how the people who have hurt me would feel about themselves if I took my life. The endless blame game they'd play in their heads.. and the questions those who loved me would have.. not regarding my death.. but regarding their lives in the wake of my blood-stained absence."
"I'm not quite sure what to say to that."
"Listen.. I've considered drowning all of my misery in a nihilistic dance with life.. ***, drugs, shameless self-promotion.. but I just don't think I have it in me to stop loving. And that means I don't have it in me to stop feeling. And that means I don't have it in me to keep living. Not forever. Not for long. I'm just waiting for me to save my life, but I'm not coming, because I don't exist. I'm at the hotel counter waiting for the clerk to come out from the back office so I can check out."
