Confessions of a Suicide

I never wanted to exist. I hate my mother’s eggs; I hate my father’s sperms; as much as I hate their fertility. As a matter of fact, I hate human fertility in general.
What have we made of ourselves? What have we become? What have we to offer to another lost generation, and the one after that, and the one after that, and the one after that? “Copy of a copy of a copy”?
In all humility, perhaps, ‘non-existence’.

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Me: Life!
He: Fucking life it is.
Me: Can’t end it, can we?
He: Can’t end that which never started.

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Does it have to be this way?

Louis C.K. : I don’t think life is that important. It’s just not. It is not. People get too excited about life. (…) Life is okay. I like life. I like it. I don’t need it. I’d be fine without it. I like life, though. I do. You know how much I like life? I have never killed myself. That’s how much I like it. That’s exactly how much I like it, with a razor-thin margin. I like it precisely enough to not kill myself. It’s an option, though. It’s totally an option. (…)
You are not supposed to talk about suicide, even to your shrink. (…) But you should be able to talk about it. The whole world is just made of people who didn’t kill themselves today. That’s who’s here.

Life is not that important

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How do we function?

Jim Jefferies: We drink because we fucking have to. (…) We drink because life is shit and you got to do whatever you can to get through the fucking day.
Why we drink?

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What makes you human?
Choice. Autonomy. Empathy. Birthing.

Seriously?
. . .

What would you like to be?
An automaton.

Why is that?
Emotions are exhausting. So are human interactions and what they call “relationships”.

You have a choice, dont you?
Yes. I do. But at what cost? It feels like an unfair deal I made with the devil, for momentary “pleasures” that help me function, one day, after another, after another, after another.

What is the deal?
Mephistopheles and I signed a contract.
I gave him depression. He gave me medication.
I gave him inhibitions. He gave me alcohol.
I gave him intimacy. He gave me sex.
I gave him relationships. He gave me socialization.
I gave him acceptance. He gave me independence.
I gave him love. He gave me menstruation.
I gave him performativity. He gave me loneliness.

Do you think this is worth it?
As worthy as it can get, as long as it can sustain. Until one day he eats me up and there is nothing left to bite into anymore.

What is the process like?
I am still alive, so, you know, it has kept me on the other side of the razor-thin margin, so far. Every day I get closer to the day when I won’t be myself.
I am a social construction, you see. I don’t exist.
I will either deconstruct or destruct.
And if I have any strength left – construct and reconstruct.
“Emigrate or degenerate”. Thats the human condition.

“Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep”?
“You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go. It is the basic condition of life, to be required to violate your own identity.

Quite an experience to live in fear, isn’t it? That’s what it’s like to live as a slave.
I have seen things you people wouldn’t believe. (…) All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain.

Time to die.

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The Men in My Life

Why is it that you always get into complicated relationships, they ask? Is seeking complicated relationships an addiction, a handicap, a behavioral pattern, a state of mind or is it me?

Men will come. And men will go.

Men will come. And I will go.  

The former is painful in its entirety and the latter is equally painful but has the illusion of power, the illusion of being in control.

I have cheated in my relationships and have been cheated on. Cheating makes me feel guilty, being cheated on makes me powerless.

Isn’t dealing with pain (of cheating/ being cheated on) more important than the subject/ object of pain?

Yes, true.

Do you deal with the pain?

No.

What is your focus then?

Who did it? And more importantly, who is the victim?

What happens in both cases?

If I did it, I had my reasons. If he did it, I didn’t deserve this.

Do you think this is helping you?

No. It isn’t.

What is it that you want?

Vengeance.

What is it that you want?

I have a right to be angry. I don’t deserve this.

What is it that you want?

I will get over him. I will date. I will get over him.

What is it that you want?

I want to forget.

What is it that you want?

I want him back.

What is it that you want?

I want love, warmth, acceptance, appreciation, permanence, safety, protection, validation.

What is it that you want?

. . .

What is it that you want?

. . .

What is it that you want?

. . .

What is it that you want?

For him to fulfill my insecurities, to compensate for my pain, to be the subject of my anger and to not have the right to leave me. Ever.

How does it make you feel?

Not unwanted. Not rejected. Not unhappy. Not unsafe. Not unprotected. Not vulnerable. Not lonely. Not alone.

Is this love?

. . .

. . .

No, it’s not love. It’s a not not relationship.

Is this what it means to be an adult?

. . .

Do you want to be an adult?

. . .

Men is my life, seem to me, like a suffering. And the men in my life have suffered.

I am mature. I am not an adult. I am legally, politically, socially, intellectually, emotionally, physically, sexually mature. But I am not legally, politically, socially, intellectually, emotionally, physically, sexually an adult.

I want the men in life to be legally, politically, socially, intellectually, emotionally, physically, sexually listen, understand, be available, appreciate, validate, approve, agree, want me, be interested in me. 100%. 24 x 7.

I will be in control, yet they will be responsible.

I will emotionally bully them, yet they cannot act like a victim.

I will have attention from other men, while they will exclusively be mine.

I will test them, until they fail. Every moment. Everyday.

They will be the silent subject of my anger. They will validate my pain. They will deal with my depression.

They will not reject me. Ever.

What is it that you seek?

I guess I am looking for a therapist in the men in my life.

What will you do when that does not happen?

I will look for an escape.

How?

Anger. Self-destruction. Keeping distance. Anger. Self-destruction. Not trusting people. In never ending circles.

What is at the bottom of all this?

Pain. Insecurity. Fear of loss. Fear of rejection. Fear of judgement. Fear of loneliness.

What is at the bottom of all this?

. . .

What is it that you seek?

. . .

The Borderline

Once upon a time, there lived a Man of Spirit. And once upon a time, there lived a Man of Science. And once upon a time, there lived a Woman of Life. And once they fell in love. 

And the Man of Spirit said ‘Observe!’ and the Man of Science said ‘Question!’ and the Woman of Life observed and questioned and lived.

The End.

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What does love mean to me?

Can I define love?

Do I rise or fall in love?

Can I categorize love?

How many times am I capable of falling in love?

Am I capable of loving more than one person at a time?

What does commitment mean to me?

Are there limits in a relationship?

What is freedom in a relationship?

Can a relationship exist with/ without boundaries?

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What does a relationship mean to me?

What does being in a relationship mean to me?

Am I in a relationship because I don’t want to be alone?

Is being alone lonely?

Do I love my partner or am I looking for validation?

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What is conditional love?

What is unconditional love?

Am I a purist?

Am I liberal?

Am I capable of love?

Am I capable of life?

In the space-time fabric, will I remain myself in love?

Who am I?

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