Reading these suicide pages you will find people seeking help and people offering their help. Some witness about suicide from real life experience, others who play along with me would pretend it's a children's game. Some make sick and cruel jokes about it, and angry people blame me for even mentioning the subject. You might also want to read my favourite answers. If you want your answer to be included here, fill in the form.

Date Name/email

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What is the best way to kill yourself when you're under 13?

Quelle est la meilleure forme de suicide pour les moins de 13 ans?
06 Jun 2009   I tried pushing the strength of my vocal chords, and all I've learned is that you can't fill nothingness with anything.
06 Jun 2009 Jonathan I'd say shooting yourself, because it's hard to miss. but it's possible so aim at the center of your head! if you don't manage to kill yourself then you're fucked cause you'll probably end up with brain damage and your life will be even worse. so use a shotgun or a large calibre handgun. grenades are also good. that's it from me. in your face, shitty world!
05 Jun 2009 christmas How do you pay the rent with this Mouchette?
I mean, Really. Talking about Lucy's breasts is all fine and dandy, but I don't feel like it's a recession proof business.
05 Jun 2009 Shanell Davis Don't do it, that is the best way to kill yourself is don't do it/.. reather you believing god or not, you will pay for is harshfull in the afterlife, weather it be a lake of fire or limbo.. you won't be happy in your afterlife if you commit suicide
05 Jun 2009 Mike Stop eating.
05 Jun 2009 Shalin Ghansiyal My name is Shalin Ghansiyal. I desparately want to die. Please help me.
03 Jun 2009 jessica hi i have no idea if anyone reads this thread any more, but u r right now so i'll add some of my thoughts

i've struggled with depression for most of my life, esp as a child. i can tell u this much. as hard as u think u might have, someone out there has it worse. someone desperately wants to live, but won't be given the opportunity. don't waste ur life. please realize that life is full of ups and downs...u just have to roll with the punches and hope that tomorrow will be a better day. i don't think u can rightfully make the decision to commit suicide, based on only 13 years of ur life. please hang in there...wait it out. at least give it a decent run. ask urself when ur 30...but not now...there is so much that could still happen to turn things around.

things i have been: raped, drug user, prostitute, homeless...things i am now: married, a mother, employed, drug-free

please hang in there! i did and really it did pay off...
02 Jun 2009   suicide?

why would i want to sue a side?
i don't even know what side it is, maybe it's the good side. And it's not like I can even afford a lawyer, shit.
I mean, I'll just get all tangled up in debt, and probably end up killing myself to escape payment.
29 May 2009 jeece Damn! Life!! It sucks ass and it hurts so bad that you really want to die. Seriously , think about it. WAnt to die? Give it a whirl. Shit is there, ALWAYS!!! But without the sour, you will never taste sweet and you will. Trust me. it might be 23 or 67, but it will come aroud.
29 May 2009 Jess I have to say this again. I hate when people say " I know how you feel?" bull shit! I never will say that or understand you but I feel you in a way and I have been there. It takes a while but there is way. Too much to experience and some will be bad but holy damn!!! Soooo much is good! It is so worth it!! Take from someone who tried and died and was brought back. No Joke, 18 years old.. thought what is the point and took a large bottle of of HIV pain meds. Died once and was brought back to see my momma standing above me. That was it. How selfish? Keep looking at the living horizon and walk. With love - Jess
29 May 2009 Jeece Damn, it really is not the way to go!! You don't think I know how you feel? Waking up in a hole. Hiding in a closet crying and pucking your guts up because of not being able to breath? And worse, putting on a lying smile to all your close family and friends and just hoping one will see through it. Holding a knife and cutting yourself and then trying to hide it? I KNOW!! I have been there... do not choose the exit way. Days change and they do get better. Some days are still screaming and mad but the next day is better. I promise.
28 May 2009 Joose drink everything you find under the sink.
27 May 2009 Lucy Cortina Heyyyyyy
26 May 2009   best way to die? go homeless espiecally when u have no one to help u with a place for aewhile
26 May 2009 no thanks syringe and needle.. fill it with bleach, pills, alcohol, glass, and soap. inject yourself. eat a shit load of aspirin. save up and o.d. on meth or coke. invest 6 months of time into liking guns, this will not only give time to think about it, but keep yourself distracted and perhaps get a hobby.
26 May 2009 M.M. a.k.a. billy the freak amsterdam heaves like the breath in her lungs. people bustle through the streets as
the blood surges through her veins. i can feel this all around me.... however, i sit
alone in the a bar. I want to be alone, only me and the bartender. hey, did you know
i have the power to be anybody? i can go anywhere and do anything, any-fucking-way i
want to do it. However, tonight I sit alone. i sit in a basement level dive too dark
to see the clock on the wall, yet bright enough to see the bar in front of me. the
pink neon light in the window screamed in its best cursive 'MOUCHETTE' a warm and
ambient glow enveloping you like a womb welcoming all to her embrace. however,
tonight i sit alone.
The bartender is mouchette and i am only a guest in her place. like me she has the
power to be anything, but only in the minds of other people. if you were to ask her
who she was("mouchette, really who are you?")she would say she killed herself at the
brink of thirteen and in death had second thoughts. now she plays a game and through
this game she lives on. tonight mouchette is a thirty something italian woman with
the type of beauty that says you would like to fuck her, but wouldn't really perform
at your best only because you are intimidated by her razor sharp wit and her worldly
charm.. She has so many friends and you never feel good enough in her company. the
intimate encounters are few and far between and you both want more. when you are
away she is always in the back of your mind. i know all this and tonight she is only
the bartender, why she is in this spittoon of a saloon could only be guessed, but i
do know she is here... aways here for me.
"mouchette! baby doll, please pour me another." i belted.
"billy darling no need to shout; i am right here and there is no one else in the
bar." she said in a reprimanding tone."another vodka and tonic i would bet."
"right you are. you know me well."
"i know you because you know you, you know me and right now... this is all we know."
"positively insightful mouchette, I say you inspire me. you are my muse." this i
announced with a certain amount of glee.
"billy" she said while fixing my drink. "I am afraid the booze is your muse.." She
sat the drink down in front of me.
I was outraged. "mouchette, you... how could you say this? do you want to hurt me?
do you want me to feel bad?"
"again billy, this is all we know. I think you must ask yourself that question."
{what is her angle? what is she getting at? i want her to go with the flow.} i took
the drink in one gulp then slammed the heavy short glass motioning for another
drink, nectar of the gods.
" vodka and tonic yes?"
"ha!! i would like a whiskey and coke, if you put pepsi in there i will fucking
smack you." i said triumphantly "you are slipping mouchette... maybe you are not my
muse"
"the joke is on you billy." she said in a tired voice and made the drink in the same
dirty glass.
{the joke was on me. i hate whiskey. what is this? do i have control? yes, i have
all the control. when i am here i am king and she is the servant. So why do i feel
so helpless.} the neon light from out side the bar shined through my half empty
short glass, casting glimmers of light onto the slick bar top. the lights danced
across the fine finished wood as i turned the glass between my thumb and index
finger. suddenly i felt alone. no longer alone by choice, but alone... just
helplessly alone.
"well billy, I'm here" falicia said out of nowhere.
"how did you get here." I asked.
"you let me in silly, what kind of question is that." now i am simply sick of this
shit.
"are you going to fuck with me too falicia!" i shot the whiskey and the fumes and
words came out my mouth like fire. "i don't know how you got here. i don't know why
you keep coming back. i didn't open that fucking door."
"i found the door and walked through it just like you did billy, ask yourself these
questions and you will find the answers you are looking for." falicia ordered a
mineral water and drank while i thought about what she said.
i first came here when i was sixteen it was 1998 ten years passed and now i am
twenty six. i didn't give anything, i only took for one decade. she was always here
when i needed her and at times she made me feel special, at times she made me feel
worthless. I would run away but only in presence. in the stealth of the night i
would visit. the price i pay is her always haunting me, for not a day goes by... not
a day goes by. did i want a suicide kit for christmas? no, i just wanted to show
other children how to play with the toy. i am no longer a child, but i still play
with this toy.
"falicia i come here because as long as people come here i cannot die.... i will
live forever. this is the gift she gave me and i tell you, i don't know if i deserve
it." just when i thought i was opening up falicia started to laugh a hysterical
laugh. then lucy and phil join in. chris and will snow chime and it now a chorus of
laughter. joe lee, mackellar, elaine, agent orange, just a girl, and many others
have the bar quaking with laughter. in spite of myself i start to chuckle as well,
but i had to ask.
"falicia why are we laughing."
"you wanting to live forever is all fine and good," she said as she points across
the bar with her finger resting towards the bartender. "but what happens when she
dies."
that very moment i had ad a revelation and with that change a change happened in
mouchette. her cigarette burn eyes stared at me as she poured me another vodka and
tonic, her smile was just crack on her plastic face
25 May 2009 Enzyme Hello my velveteen death-rabbits, a thousand evil butterfly-kisses upon your tortured brows! Mouchette! I brought this still beating mailman heart for you! Wrapped in candy-corns, jaguar eyes and silt! See how it glistens in the wide, rich light of dawn? That’s real cosmic loneliness I garnished it with. Just for you my darling ruffian. How delightful your shimmering canines are! May I offer my forearm up for you to affectionately tear the flesh off my bones? I adore you so my little persimmon…

Let me tell you all about a vacancy. Take the late-late gilded one stop train deep into the aorta of my homeland. Waiting to carry your bags is a positively charming World War I flying ace with empty holes instead of eyes. He grins with a wide copper smile and steps forward to kiss your hand. “You poor, poor thing. Right this way.” And into the asphyxiated night he leads you through cobble-stoned paths and pale fire to the All You Can Rest Stop. Everyone there is drowsy and adorable, intoxicated with warm lamplight. Dryads, Demons, tall thin train conductors with artificial internal organs they keep wrapped in wax paper on their laps. Here you’ll be safe my sweet Mouchettelings. Come here anytime and cuddle with the malnourished scarecrows, belligerent angels, and pouting zombie children. Sway to The Ink Spots and dip long needles into the living meat pastries. Here’s a buy-one-get-one-free ticket. Keep this place deep in your heart. And instead of slashing your lovely wrists go here in your volcanic mind. Visit it whenever you like. I’ll be in the back near the jukebox that runs on human blood, giving away free benedictions and nuzzles.

The point being, I want you all to flee whole-heartedly from reality. Just pack your bags and get the hell out of dodge. The world of the everyday is laced with cyanide and sobbing railroad apartments. The agony of tying one’s shoelaces. The magnetic yearning with all your exploding blood vessels for something you can’t fully articulate. Happiness doesn’t seem to be woven into the fabric of the day to day. That’s why the trembling furnace in our dawn-soul’s imagination exists. Let go of all your mundane, earthly needs. Acceptance, wealth, marriage, fame, sex, beauty, everlasting joy. The pursuit of happiness will yield more misery than anything else. Yessssss… Good. Now feel the suppurating beetle of guilt and shame withdraw its revolting proboscis from your swollen neck. Remember, you’re still alive. Feel that expanding cataclysmic sunrise in your ribcage? That’s the miracle of your demonic life force shuddering and expanding. How rare. How extraordinary that you are. Stuffed with emeralds and goblin tyrants. No, you are not incomplete, but whole and burgeoning. Everything you need is in your heart and skull. This is not a competition, not a race for happiness, freedom or achievement, not a transition, not a buffet. You are already the goal, to exist as the lovely and hideous creature that you are. The specimen drifting peacefully in formaldehyde on the shelf. You are a self-perpetuating motion machine. A short-wave radio. Meant simply to be sensitive enough to emote. By existing you have already fulfilled your destiny. There will never be another exactly like you in the history of the dark, expanding cosmos. Enjoy it.

And go watch: “Let The Right One In” by Tomas Alfredson. Swedish vampire films always cheer me up.

Love Enzyme.

P.S. Hello Billy the Freak, I bow low to you my liege, my scalp scraping the hard wood floors. I am indeed a deity. The god and goddess of shy nooks and awkward corners.
24 May 2009 M.M. a.k.a. billy the freak (Rape, Murder and Suicide Are Easier When You Use a Keyboard Shortcut: Mouchette, an On-Line Virtual Character
Leonardo - Volume 38, Number 3, June 2005, pp. 202-206)

this quoted from web site project muse in brief review of mouchette

enzyme,
i noticed i spelled your name wrong on my last post. i was key stroke off. please do not take offense.
some years ago mouchette asked me to stop making spelling errors, because she didn't have time to correct them. mouchette has given few a interviews over the years and in one of her early interviews she was asked how much time she spends at her computer. she did not want to answer for it was so much. i was not upset, in fact i was happy she took the time to correct my post long as she did. she wanted my words to be right and further more she challenged me to do this myself in a sense make my own work better. with that she helped me design the way my post are styled. i do this by copy and paste from my yahoo mail account. that way i can see it spread out and i use spell check. pretty smart, huh. then finally she asks me how i started spelling so good. i told her i used spell check.

the bangles manic monday plays in the background.

now, i don't really know if my post have gotten better, but i do feel as if they have matured, however they still give the opposite vibe. hey, i'm a freak.
you said you had a screenplay.
i fancy myself a writer as well. mouchette says: to become an artist you simply make something and call it art. i guess you can do that with writing as well. i make a few post in the kit and now... i'm a writer.
in an interview with peter luining mouchette says: (I am the kind of person who thinks that art is never where you expect it, and that art is only in the eye of the beholder: a true descendant of Marcel Duchamp.)
i agree with this one hundred percent and i consider what i'm doing right now art. a revolutionary type of art where you are allowed to contribute even if you are tricked in to doing so.
after the first time you then pick your level of involvement. i bet there are souls who have been visiting for years and never once posted and of course i only speak of the kit. there is so much more. she has so much allure.
in the reviews of mouchette they try break it down with psychology, and i can tell from your post you know a little something about that. in the interviews it seems to me the person answering the questions instead of answering the questions as if they were mouchette they speak of mouchette like it is piece of art that is influenced b the hands of many and left to interpretation. please don't get me wrong mouchette does provoke you on a psychological level and does a good job of steering your thoughts in a certain direction, but what two psyches are the same. so i feel it is definitely up to your interpretation. they say mouchette allows you to flirt with the thought of death, maybe... it also allows you to flirt with the thought of life.
with all the searching i have done and personal interaction i have had with mouchette i am no closer to knowing what she is then when i first began, but i do know how she makes me feel. if mouchette was music i would download her onto my i pod. if mouchette was an herb i would smoke her. you know what? i am getting way off track. enzyme, i'm sorry i spelled your name wrong. i noticed you didn't have any typos in your post. perfect. god. are you god? well if you are. i'm sure you know what you are getting into and can handle it. don't let us down.

your friend,
billy the freak

p.s. we all know mouchette is on the cutting edge of pop culture but has anyone noticed how wattle chick sounds and reads like lewis carroll's jabberwockey? curiouser and curiouser. billy wins the award for most mentions of mouchette in one post, he chortles in his joy. mouchette i love you.
24 May 2009 Garry Nicole, don't know you love, I care. Can't tell you what to do, but please, think.
23 May 2009 M.M. a.k.a.billy the freak the city heaves like the breath in her lungs. people bustle through the streets as the blood surges through her veins. i can feel this all around me... however, i sit alone in her bar. I want to be alone, only me and the bartender.
{hey, did you know i have the power to be anybody? i can go anywhere. yep. i can do anything, any-fucking-way i want to do it. however, tonight I sit alone. i sit in a basement level dive too dark to see the clock on the wall, yet bright enough to see the bar in front of me like a high definition painting in a cheap plastic frame. the pink neon light in the window screamed in its best cursive 'MOUCHETTE' a warm and ambient glow enveloping you like a womb welcoming all to her embrace. however, tonight i sit alone.
the bartender is mouchette and i am only a guest in her place. like me she has the power to be anything, but only in the minds of other people. if you were to ask her who she was, she would say she killed herself at the brink of thirteen and in death had second thoughts. not that she didn't want to kill herself, but wanted to know the best way to do it. now she plays a game and through this game she lives on.
tonight mouchette is a thirty something woman with the type of beauty that says you would like to love her, but wouldn't really be at your best only because you are intimidated by her razor sharp wit and her worldly charm... she has so many friends and you never feel good enough in her company. the intimate encounters are few and far between and you both want more. when you are away she is always in the back of your mind. i know all this and tonight she is only the bartender, why she is in this spittoon of a saloon could only be guessed, but i do know she is here... always here for me.
"mouchette! baby doll, please pour me another" i belted.
"billy, darling, no need to shout; i am right here and there is no one else in the bar" she said in a reprimanding tone", " another vodka and tonic i would bet?"
"right you are. you know me well "i said.
"i know you because you know you, you know me and right now... this is all we know" she replied.
"positively insightful mouchette, I say you inspire me. you are my muse." this i announced with a certain amount of glee, but not really understanding what she said. it sounded good enough.
"billy" she said while fixing my drink. "I am afraid the booze is your muse." she sat the drink down in front of me. she is speaking gobbity gook and suggesting i was an alcoholic. I was outraged.
"mouchette, you... how could you say this? do you want to hurt me? do you want me to feel bad?"
"again billy, this is all we know. I think you must ask yourself that question." she said again putting it back on me.
{what is her angle? what is she getting at? i want her to go with the flow.}
i took the drink in one gulp then slammed the heavy short glass motioning for another drink, nectar of the gods.
" vodka and tonic yes?" she called from across the bar.
"ha!! i would like a whiskey and coke, if you put pepsi in there i will fucking smack you." i said triumphantly. "you are slipping mouchette... maybe you are not my muse maybe this is just a joke."
"the joke is on you billy." she said in a tired voice and made the drink in the same dirty glass.
{and the joke was on me. i hate whiskey. in an attempt to be belligerent i asked for something i didn't want. what is this? do i have control? yes, i have all the control. when i am here i am king and she is the servant. So why do i feel so helpless.}
the neon light from out side the bar shined through my half empty short glass, casting glimmers of light onto the slick bar top. the lights danced across the fine finished wood as i turned the glass between my thumb and index finger. suddenly i felt alone. no longer alone by choice, but alone... just helplessly alone.
"well billy, I'm here" felicia said out of nowhere.
"how did you get here." I asked.
"you let me in silly, what kind of question is that?" was the condescending reply.
now i am simply sick of this shit.
"are you going to fuck with me too felicia!" i shot the whiskey down my throat and the words and fumes came out my mouth like fire.
"i don't know how you got here. i don't know why you keep coming back. i didn't open that fucking door you waltzed in here yourdamnself."
"billy right now you want me here. i found the door and walked through it just like you did. billy, ask yourself these questions and you will find the answers you are looking for". felicia ordered a mineral water and drank while i thought about what she said.
i first came here when i was sixteen it was 1998 ten years passed and now i am twenty six. i found this place when i was contemplating suicide. we all know i'm no strait lacer who tied up his shoes to awalk on the wild side. i never gave anything too much, and got so much in return. she was always here when i needed her. at times she made me feel special, at times she couldn't have made me feel more worthless. I would run away, but only in presence and in the stealth of the night i would visit. the price i pay is her always haunting me, for not a day goes by... not a day goes by. did i want a suicide kit for christmas? not really, i just wanted to show other children how to play with the toy. i am no longer a child, but i still play with this toy. i'll still show to get the max amount fun even if you just watch the other children. something eternal made fameous by the hands of its creator. that's it.
"felicia i come here because, as long as people come here i cannot die... i will live forever. this is the gift she gave me and i tell you, i don't know if i deserve it". just when i thought i was opening up felicia started to laugh a hysterical laugh. then lucy and phil joined in. chris and will snow chime in and it is now a chorus of laughter. joe lee, mackellar, elaine, odd orange, dead inside, just a girl, and many others have the bar quaking with laughter. in spite of myself i start to chuckle as well, but i had to ask.
"felicia why are we laughing?"
"although it sounds like an oxymoron in the most basic sense, you wanting to live forever is all fine and good" she said as she points across the bar with her finger resting towards the bartender "but what happens when she dies?"
that very moment i had a revelation and with that change in my mind a change happened in mouchette. her cigarette burned eyes stared at me as she poured me another vodka and tonic, her smile was just crack on her plastic face.

billy the freak

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