November 4, 2004

You And Jimmy And Me

You and your friends had talked about a suicide pact before, only in passing, you knew. You had brought it up once, just to see what they'd say; and of course when they looked at you like you were fucking crazy you laughed and said you were joking. But Jimmy could tell you were serious -- you could see it by the nervous look in his eye.

So when Jimmy and you were alone together later that night, you told Jimmy you were going to kill yourself sometime soon, and you had hoped he would join you. Jimmy loved himself; but he was a very impressionable young man, and agreed that he would shoot himself in the head with you on the cliffs of Mount Bluffs, high above the city, away from all the cruelty that found you below.

In the ensuing months, through your extensive network of friends, you recruited well over twelve thousand people to join you and Jimmy in your quest for the afterlife -- your way out of this hell from which you felt no escape. There were many characters -- Vinny, the tough kid from New York City, who had decided to kill himself with a pillow (he wanted to die because he hated his father, and knew it would upset him). There was Troy, the local sports hero who was also a homosexual, as it turns out. Troy -- like Vinny, and like you, too I suppose -- wanted to get back at his father whom he hated (Troy was going to kill himself with a knife to the heart... the knife his father had given to him on his fourteenth birthday). There was Amber, the promiscuous blonde who was actually a virgin, you came to learn after a night of talking and not getting laid by her (she was going to kill herself with sleeping pills because she was also hoping to upset her father whom -- like you and Vinny and Jimmy and me, too, I suppose -- she hated).

There were many more. Some colorful, some not. Some pretty, some not. Some fatter and better smelling than others. One had no legs. Another had no genitals for reasons he would not mention.

They were all going to kill themselves with you and Jimmy on Bluff Hill or wherever that scenic overlook was up in the mountains -- the one you found so beautiful at night, when you felt so alone.

But the night before you were going to do all this you met me and decided life was worth living after all. You told me everything. We held each other close, and spoke of the future. Yes yes, we fucked like school children, but that was not the point. The point was, for once in your sad life you felt something approaching hope. Like maybe all this, it wasn't for nothing. Like maybe you could hold on. All this in three hours. A funny thing, these lives of ours -- how we change and twist ourselves with the wind.

A funnier thing was that you never bothered to tell Jimmy about your change of heart.

The next day, you found his body bloodied and dead up in the mountains, next to Gary, the computer nerd who died wearing a t-shirt that had Donald Duck on it.

Not far away, next to Greg the college student and Tracy the interior designer from Iowa, was me, bloodied and dead up in the mountains, too, smiling a cruel smile for reasons you will never never know.

Posted by albu0009 at 8:13 AM

"Have you ever jerked off so hard that you made your skin bleed?" he asked his students.

"Did you ever want to die so bad that the pain consumed you like fire, and you could actually feel your soul trying to escape from inside?" she asked her mother.

"Sometimes I just want to tie you down and fuck you like a dog," she told her son.

"What's your favorite color?" the lawyer asked the poet. "What's yours?" the poet asked the sun.

"Were you ever so in love, so fucking blinded by it and torn and confused, that you couldn't bare to go on living another day?" I asked God, kneeling by my bed, hands clasped tightly together, eyes closed.

Posted by albu0009 at 8:00 AM

I was like yeah so whatever, who are you to talk? And she was like oh no you didn't, oh know you didn't... and this guy over there was just like staring at me like he wanted to fuck me... but like I wasn't like creeped out, even though he looked like he lived with his parents and had probably murdered some prostitute he found downtown... and anyway, I was like yeah so whatever, who are you to talk? And this bitch was totally wasted, screaming at me "oh no you didn't, oh no you didn't".

But I did. And I had repeatedly told her I did.

And she still didn't believe me, even though it was obvious I just had.

Posted by albu0009 at 7:53 AM