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

Nom/email
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?
28 Jul 2004 Felicia The Great Born In The Year of the Spanking Monkey Oh dear, dear, dear, Billy!

You are always welcome into my apartment, but don’t be surprised that you see me walking in my birthday suit. I just did 400 bits (sit ups) today and 200 more. You caught me swinging my arms and legs moving back and forth on the Elliptical stair climber. I got this Jack Lalaine video and thought it was a scream. You know the old man still eats raisin brain, then yammers away “Go to health, go to health!” I thought it was an incantation to the underworld, but I had to take the earplugs out of my ears because old lady Thatcher kept farting away downstairs and ruined my sense of concentration.

Oh, I didn’t mean to pull the top of your hair. I meant to grab you by the arms but I kept slipping off the Elliptical climber because all my perspiration was so darn slippery. I ran out of towels… used them all to line the cracks of my floor because old lady Thatcher’s smoke was seeping through.

So you wanted to do something to me. You sneaky, sneaky, boy!
Just want to let you know that Lucy has the hots for you or is it Phil.
Billy, being unisex really isn’t all that bad. But for me… I’m just a girl.

…a naughty, naughty girl.

Now put that in your book.
30 Jun 2004 billy the freak hello friends,
it is the fameous billy the freak, i like the sound of that, it has a glorious ring to it. don't you other fameous users agree.
now anybody who isn't fameous don't get upset, just try to appeal to the masses,the suicidal masses, they are confused so it shouldn't be hard. or at least appeal to mouchette. that one is tricky. i have more time to post now because once again my alcoholism has cost me another job. however this time i will collect workmans compensation, for this time i wasn't in a drunken rage and told my bossman exactly were he could go, but fell down some steps while carrying a huge pile of company reports. yes, i was drunk, but the the insurrance company dosn't need to know that. my lawyer claims it wasn't my duty to carry the reports down the stairs
so the company was at fault. so now i have plenty of down time. i will give you all a treat. i just wish my shoulder will stop hurting.
i have read alot of good post lately to many to mention by name but i would like to see more post that are not just crazy rants.
last but not least i am in the prosess of composing a story ( you have already seen two parts of it) it will contain many names of people who i don't know personally so i will make up there personality from what i read on thier post. don't get upset. all is fair in love and the kit.


your friend billy the freak
29 Jun 2004 billy the freak i didn't bother to announce myself when i finally decided to walk through the door. i opened it slowly half expecting it to creek loudly. it didn't creek, the pins and hinges moved smoothly. i guess miss thatchet can spare a squirt of oil when you pay your rent on time. felicia always had priorities. i snuck down the hall like a rapist moving in on his pray. i came to the living room and immediately saw falicia staring out the window. she must not have noticed me because she kept staring, kept tapping her pen on her notebook. so i sidestepped till i was directly behind her at about ten paces.
she didn't know i was there. my stealthiness excited me there was a warm sensation running through my face and loins. the wind blowing through the window sent wisps of her hair into a swirl, i felt like ravishing her. instead i tip toed up to her and and covered her eyes with my hands.
"guess who?" i whispered.
immediately she elbowed me in the groin. by the time i doubled over she was standing and grabbed me by my hair and pulled me forward into the chair she was sitting on. i tripped and fell by then she had the chair over her head ready to crash into me. it amazes me the will of instinct.
"damn it falicia chill out!" i pleaded.
"billy you bastard!" she screamed. "don't you knock. i was so scared i would of killed you." i believed her. i got up and shook myself to my senses.
"i thought we were on a no knock basis." i said as i rubbed my head were she had grabbed the handful of my mange.
"we WAS on a no knock basis." she said. "when we was knocking boots. but you can't come in and out of here like you do my life, okay."
"yeah." i answered.
"so what do you want? to drop another dead body, because miss thatchet said no more till you pay up on your rent."
"no nothing like that. i...i..." i stuttered.
"what the hell do you want billy!." she spit at me. she was obviously upset and now i felt like leaving. i franticly looked around for an answer and saw the book shelf.
"i came to get the copy of guns and ammo i left here." i lied.
"i am pretty sure you got them all billy." she huffed impatiently. " take a look."
i went over to the book shelf and started looking through her magazines. woman's health, trim, and shape. luckily i found a copy of guns and ammo i had left and gave an internal sigh of relief.
"did you find it?" she asked now sitting in her chair again staring out the window and tap tap tapping.
"yep, august 2001 the one i was missing." i said as i read the date off the top again lying to her.
"good, then if you will i am busy i got many things on my mind." she politely told me to leave.
then i noticed the half eaten chocolate easter bunny on the top of the book shelf. i thought about the weight magazines and the bunny that has been sitting there since easter and it hit me.
"falicia have you lost weight? not saying that you are fat or anything but you are looking trimmer." in all actuality i didn't notice a difference, she looked like the same old beautiful falicia to me.
"oh billy you noticed. i lost eight and a half pounds and i centered it around my mid section. i worked so hard and dieted so long. you was the first person to notice. you know i am not the one to around bragging but..." she was about to go on one of thous emotion filled rants about life and goals so i decided to interrupt her.
"falicia, now that i am on you lighter side..." i stopped to smile at her so that she caught my pun.
" i feel that it is time that we try to make our relationship work. no more in and out just for the in and out."
"billy i can't go through anymore heart ache with you your lucky we are still friends." she sighed."you know i will always love you. i just can't carry the weight of your baggage."
after such a heartfelt turndown i decided against just coming out and asking for sex.
"well then do you mind if i just hang out for the weekend i am lonely and feeling down and you were the first person i thought of. in fact when i get down you are the only person i think of. i mean your not seeing any one right now right." i asked sheepishly.
"wadda ya say?"
"okay billy but no freaky stuff because i will throw you in the closet." she pointed her finger directly in my face.
"i would never." i protested.
"yes you would." this time she poked the finger in my chest. "besides our friend from england is coming. i was going to have you up here anyway."
"lucy is coming. that is great." my mind quickly filled with thoughts of a threesome. when will she be here?"
"well billy, i don't now how to tell you this, but lucy is really a guy." she bit her lip and waited for a reply.
"what are you saying" i said confused.
"lucy is a seventeen year old homosexual male named phil." she again waited for me to say something. when she noticed i was going to be silent she continued." he came out in england and and now he wants us to help him come out in america."
"now i know why lucy kept me under the bed and would not let me touch her...er...him. oh my goodness!" my mind started to race. my dreams started to crumble. the very ground i standed on seem soft like gelatin. "what the fucking hell."
"look billy, lucy is a part of phil. an alter-ego if you will. to know all of lucy you got to know phil. and to know phil is to know all of lucy. got it. try to be open minded." her words sounded good enough i guess.
"so when is she...he coming?" i asked.
"tomarrow morning." she replyed. "does this mean you are going to behave?"
"it is like you said lucy is phil, phil is lucy, i love lucy so i will at least learn to like phil." falicia got up and hugged me.
"good. we are having brunch at the hotel at ten you two will have plenty time to talk." she sat down and this time she wasn't staring or tapping she was writing. i leaned down and asked her what this was all about with the window and the notebook she said she was inspired.
when i asked by what she told me to look at the vacant lot across the street and asked me what i saw.
" a few bums sleeping, some trash, and a shopping cart full of aluminum cans." all of a sudden i needed a drink.
"no silly look harder." she said whimsically.
"don't see anything falicia." i said.
"of coarse you don't you don't see the positive in any thing. look down the middle where the street light is and look a little left." i did and i saw a yellow flower
growing out of a crack in the asphalt. all i saw was shit. falicia saw something beautiful in that pile of shit. at that moment i understood her just a little bit more. now i need that drink.
25 Jun 2004 billy the freak i sat in my lonely apartment staring at the clock for what seemed an eternity, but in all actuality i was only seventeen minutes i know because i was looking at the clock. i then decided i needed some excitement so i would travel up the steps of the apartment complex to the tippy top floor to see an old friend. however, i needed to be quiet becuase on the very next floor my landady miss thatchet sat watching daytime television. i don't have her rent money and i don't plan on having it till next month and i just don't want to deal with the confrontation, so i will tip toe up the steps. when i came to the front of miss thatchet's door i heard the tv blaring the words JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!
SHE'S A WHORE! SHE'S A WHORE! and came to the conclusion she was watching that trash jerry springer. TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF! only ignorent people could watch that show and be entertained. then i thought of miss thatchet and realized it makes sence. i thought i was home free when i passed her door and started up the steps. i got a little lax and wasn't paying attention. i stepped on the biggest cockroach i had ever seen. with a loud pop it's yellow guts hit the wall.
the next thing i heard was the voice of the devil. i was caught.
"billy you little punk!" she hissed through lips that held a non-filter kool.
"do you got my money? i tell from looking at you you ain't got my money you look pathetic that's how i know.
i found in these situation i is just best to agree withe her.
"yes miss thatchet i am pathetic and i don't have your money. i'll have it next month."
her eyes widened. her lip quivered.
"you will have it next month or you will have new locks on the door and all your shit will be in my storage untill i get my fucking money!" she must have strained her vocal chords with that last display of verbal assult becuase she started to cough. little specs of spit hit my face and her cigarette hit the floor.
"do yo hear me?" she stomped the cigarette out with her bare foot.
"yes ma'am." i gulped.
"now go up there and see your little bitch girlfriend." she slammed the door in my face.
JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!
i climbed the steps to the top floor and looked at the sign on the door.

FELICIA THE GREAT
THE ALL KNOWING
ADVISOR WHO WAS
BORN IN THE YEAR
OF THE MONKEY
05 Jun 2004 billy the freak if mouchette had a soundtrack it would be the album that played and played till it burned a tiny bit of information somewhere in the information soup that brews in my head. i would play it till the beat in my step, the pulse in my vains runs in syncronized waves to the bass line. it will be the music that gets me jiggly and wiggly till i want to dance. it would be what i pump through my head phones at night to put me to sleep...

i had a dream i was walking through a museum that had all the existing dali paintings on display. strangely i was the person in the hall enjoying these masterful works of surrealism.
PANIC!!!
the walls started to creak and bend, grone and twist till all the walls and all the paintings formed a huge sphere around me. the sphere started to spin so rapidly that the paintings no longer had any definition. they started to mix and churn. then the sphere slowed down to where i could see again. somehow all the paintings joined together to to create this vast concave world. i floated to the ground for what seamed an eternity. when i finally came close enough to define the landscapes, i saw lakes that seemed to float above the ground, mountains that took the form of human bodies, trees that if i looked at them right side up i would see a heard of stomping elephants. if i where to spin upside down (which i did many time as i fell) it looked as if it were a group of beautiful swans. if i looked directly in the middle all saw was trees. sudenlly i fell past an circus elephant, before i knew it i hit a huge pile of grasshoppers.
they all jumped away from me leaving me unhurt and standing on the ground. i looked all around. the first thing i noticed was the elephant i passed on the way down. it was at least one hundred feet in the air walking on what seemed to be stilts, on further inspection they where the beasts legs. i saw that the monster was walking my way and was bound to pass over me. remembering my days as billy the shit boy when i cleaned up after elephants in the circus, i decided move in case the the giant wanted to relieve itself. i looked at my watch and it started to get flacid the numbers melted into the face plate. the hands spinned so rapidly they spinned right off and in the air. eventually the watch just dripped of my wrist. i guess that is why they call dali's paintings timeless. well, since time was no object i decided to look around...

to be continued
01 Jun 2004 billy the freak people i understand that i am billy the freak and i seem wise beyond my years. but please when you email me try to understand that i am not a doctor or a licensed therapist. i am not qualified to give any kind of advice that could possibly change your life. you can email and tell me your problems like you often do, but please don't expect my advice to be the best. remember i am a sick sick person.

yourfriendbillythefreak
08 May 2004 Felicia The Great Hello Mouchette, Lucy Cortina, Billy the Weeping Freak, and all the new members...

I have been on hiatus. I really apologize for not coming on this site as often as I should.

But I have a poem for you guys that would give you a thought to ponder.

"An Empty Heart is Filled"
By Felicia A. Floresca

"There is only one way to fill your empty heart. The only way to fill your empty heart is to have LOVE FOR LIFE.
Without LOVE for this ONE LIFE, you feel that nothing around you exists.

You have to realize that each portion of your life, whether good or bad, is a gift in which TIME can no longer take away from you and all this leads to happy or sad memories.

We must allow ourselves by remember this...

...that allowing ourselves by remembering that LOVE FOR LIFE is the epiphany for living for EXISTENCE."

Hang in there folks because "Today is the first day of the rest of your life."
17 Mar 2004 Chris Negative writing, a lot of times, actually constitutes a lot more creativity. It is interesting to watch a writer going through the weaving of trying to tell why something sucks without just saying that it sucks. To say why something is great, somehow takes less creativity.

My dear elaine: me, you, billy the freak, anyone else who writes on this site? We're all saying the same thing actually but me and you and the 'gang' (a term which I don't like but I used because you did) weave the words so that anyone who reads our stuff will realise that life is shit while others say it's outright shit. So to say the truth no one's story here is worth telling cos it's all the same shit! Just one satement I didn't like: "I'm talking complete shit" because you aren't. You're just expressing your thoughts, saying the truth and being honest, and there's nothing better than being honest. Yes, charity and good as written in the bible really exists, but only from a girl like you who's got the balls (excuse the biological pun) to be fucking honest...

... for those who are not honest are full of dirty little secrets, and dirty little secrets introduce you to blackmail.

I think there are things you should know about blackmail, in case it comes tapping at your door. There's what it does to you, and then there's what it makes you do. I used to think I knew what I could be made to do.

Blackmail doesn't work the way I always thought it would, if I ever gave it a thought. It doesn't smash through the clean pane of a life like a stone through a window. It's always an inside job, the most intimate of crimes. Somebody in the house has left that little window open, just a snick. The person who leaves the window open doesn't know why. Or else doesn't want to know. From outside a hand reaches into the gap, and the window creaks wide. Cold air comes rushing in. I see that hand now, each time I shut my eyes to sleep. Sometimes it's heavy and alien, the hand of a stranger. I can count the hairs on the knuckles. But on other nights I feel the fingers move and I know they are my own.

You have to search for the person who left the window open, down all the alleys of yourself. In the end you'll get there. You'll learn how you betrayed yourself in the moment that seemed like any other moment. Solution? Don't be too self-centred and egoistic. You think you can cope on your own but you will only end up hurting yourself.

When blackmail comes into your house you can learn to live with it, feeding it as little as you dare, trying to guess what it will take to make it go away before it gets too big. Then you begin to realize that it will never go away. The more you feed it, the stronger it grows. Why should you feel guilty unless you've got something to hide? Why should you be afraid? Watch me shake out your life in front of you. You know what's in there, don't you? See what comes.

Some blackmailers just want money. That's frightening, but at least you know where you are, and that a wad of used money is what you are talking about. I haven't got money.

The others put on pressure without letting you know what they want. They steer you where you don't want to go, but in a way that's so intimate you have to give in. They know more about you than you know about yourself. The pressure comes from what they don't say. They wait and wait until you can't wait anymore, and you'll do anything to know why they've come. It begins to seem like freedom.

When blackmail comes tapping at the door, get up and open it. There'll be no one there. Just the yawn of a black night, with wind in it but no stars. Already there's wind hurrying through the house, licking the back of your knees as you stare out. Where is it coming from? That window at the back. Someone's around there already and through the slender gap like an eel. Already the curtains are whipping up, the doors are buckling, and the floorboards pitch and toss like the planks of a boat.

The wind blows harder and your house begins to move on a sea that was always there, beneath the crust of the land. And you're afraid, but you are already beginning to move with it. I'm afraid, very afraid... but not from you my dear elaine. Throwing shit at me feels so good! It's when the 'sweet', 'virgin', 'friendly' girl from inside my house comes to give me a gentle hug and kiss that I start to feel threatened and afraid... cos I know that blackmail is near. So please, just bring your criticism on. Make me feel safe... And anyways, like Billy the Freak, your writing makes me horny!

Yours Truly: Chris! (and yes, like you, I wrote and took your statements at the end of another god damned bad, fucking, hell of a day well out of context of life- cos I'm only existing- and I really don't know if my thoughts are egoistic. What I know is that I'm a very, very angry person, fucked in the head, schizophrenic, and mental, and this time I had to get it out somewhere, on someone... before I go crazier)

See ya all... I don't know when, where or how!
16 Mar 2004 billy the freak man-o-man elaine the vigorous insight you spoke in your last entry made me horny... are you cute? i bet you are.

now chris, putting people down, because they may not be as creative as you isn't right.
however, i enjoy your posts immensely and they do spit flames on to the board. i blame myself for the lackluster in the kit, i wish i could post more often.

joe lee, all i can say is you are one sick fuck i thought i was twisted. i read your post about going to hell and laughed so hard the pepsi i was drinking came out my nose.

and last but not least kids, have you realized that mouchette is not just a message board, but a interactive piece of art? well, more like an art gallery that not only lets you enjoy what you're seeing but will often ask your opinion. look everywhere. and check out the links in the m.org.ue some are pretty interesting.

"come play with me" says mouchette. captivated by her beauty i can't help but frolic through her halls.
13 Mar 2004 billy the freak a friend of mine commited suicide yesterday. i helped him. i knew he was going to do it. it was obvious when the day before he gave me his playstation2 and all his games.
"here billy. i know you been saving up to get a playstation2, just hold on to the money, you can have mine."
"wait a minute. you're giving that to me?"
"yeah."
"you're not going to come back here next week and say you want that shit back."
"no. just enjoy it as much as i did."
i knew then he was going to snuff it. that playstation was his pride and joy. he got lost in those games so he didn't have to think about the real world. a streetlight went on in my vacant lot of a mind.
"man, it's about time cid."
"about time for what?"
"you know. you decided to kill yourself right."
"don't try to talk me out of it billy. i made up my mind."
"i wouldn't do such a thing. i agree with you.
"you want me to die."
"no. you want to die and i support your decision. i mean, your girlfriend left you, your mom and dad both died in a car accident on the way to bail you out of jail for public drunkeness, you lost your job, oh and didn't somebody poison your dog? yeah, i would want to die too."
he sat down and started to cry. he filled up about a bucket and a half with tears. he just kept saying i wanna die... i wanna die... and pounded the side of his head. he was breaking down. it was time to put my plan into action.
"so when did you want to do it cid?"
"i was going to do it tomorrow afternoon."
"well okay, but let me ask you something don't you think that if you were going to take the dive wouldn't you want to do it it the most pleasurable way possible?"
"what do you mean?"
"well what makes you happy cid?"
"i haven't been happy in a long time billy."
"what's made you happy in the past."
"well, my mom and dad always put up a pinyata on my birthday as a kid. i always was happy on my birthday."
"that's it cid."
"what's what."
"i'll tell you at the dinner, let's get a hamburger my treat."
i told him that i could make his last moments as happy as possible for a price.
he gave me access to his bank account. i cleaned it out. hell he didn't need it! i set his suicide up with with a birthday theme. we had a party on the apartment roof. no one came except me and and a bum who was happy to get free beer. i got some cake and ice cream, party hats, banners, gifts, and everything to make his last birthday special. the finishing touch was i turned him into a human pinyata so when he hit the ground he would bust open and candy and small toys would pour out.
"wow billy, i didn't know i could be so excited about death."
"hey with me you get your dollars worth. any way it's your birthday you deserve to be excited."
"billy thanks for everything but today is not my birthday, it's my deathday"
he started to laugh. i started to laugh. the bum started to laugh because everyone else was laughing. the moment was surreal. he must have thought it was time to go because he blew out his candles and stood on the edge of the roof and fell into eternity. i looked down and saw that the christians already showed up. they helped themselves to the candy and and munched on the thought that cid went to hell and in the bitter sweet moment i realised that I was going to hell.
06 Mar 2004 Chris Someone performed a favour for me the other day and when I thanked him he replied: "no problem, it was the least I could do". Read that again out loud and then think about what he actually told me. Have you come to the same conclusion as I did... he had analysed all of his options, thought about everything that he could have done for me, sorted out every alternative and discarded every last one except the very least. Yes, what he so proudly told me was, that of all the things he could have done as a favour for me, the one that he chose was the minimum that he could get away with, while still saying that he had done something. Of course what he meant was, more less, the exact opposite of what the bare words really mean and he became suitably flustered (enough to amuse me anyway) when I asked him what the most he could have done would have been.

Anyway, because I have little else to think about, I took to pondering other common phrases, for example what do you know for sure about the phrase 'with all due respect'? I can tell you that in ninety nine point nine per-cent of cases what will follow those words, when they are directed at you, is proof that the speaker thinks that no respect is due to you at all. He will promptly tear to pieces; a) your opinion, b) your character or c) your appearance. What springs to mind when someone prefaces what they are to tell you with these words: 'to tell the honest truth...' as opposed to the barefaced lies and cunning half truths that they normally tell you? Ask yourself why, if this is an honest person speaking, does he or she feel compelled to convince you that what they are telling is true... But then, normal people are all the same: big, fat, happy liers who want to live through the next twenty-four hours, make cash out of your simplicity and cover their weirdness and shit under the cover of love and art, making us feel suicidal all the time!

Finally, to a different subject but still related (loosely) to words... mouchette.org has descended into, how shall we say, obnoxious, weird, repetitive words! I read everyone's posts and I understand and sympathise with everyone of you... but you're all saying the same thing! There were times when I was criticised because of my writings, but come tell me that now! We need to put some zest and life back into mouchette.org or it will become just like all the other suicide boards. Felicia The Great, Billy The Freak, Phil, take note (and come back) and for God's sake Dr.Jelly, either release Joe Lee from the physchiatric ward or at least just let him use the internet service, cos we need him! (Whatever you do, just keep him off any kind of medication, he's more sane without it than with it, we all are...)

See ya in an (ironically) livelier mouchette.org...
11 Feb 2004 billy sometimes i get so sad i want to hurt myself. sometimes i get so angry i want to hurt other people. (are you feeling suicidal; homicidal maybe? :( sometimes i get so scared i just want to hide. sometimes i get so tired i just want to sleep. ( do you like to withdraw, maybe you have seen a change in your sleep habits. :( sometimes i get so lonely i think there is no one out there. sometimes i get so extatic, i think the world and everything in it is mine for the taking. (do you want off the rollercoaster? :)

i would give anything for a chance to feel normal. why is everthing so loud? why is everyone staring at me? why do people judge me because i'm different?

how do you hide in a group of people?
you act like everyone else.

be yourself even if you are psychotic, paranoid, drug addicted, nut bag like myself. atl east i say what i think or maybe that's drinks talking.
22 Jan 2004 Lida hello mouchette! hello billy! hello everybody! i am very happy to be free of pain, life is beautiful and you all are beautifull!!! i am not an english or american so i feel my english poor to express myself. the truth is that i enjoyed your writings a lot and i must tell you I AM HERE and i will stay here forever!!! -The black cat was injuring me in my dream all night and i was in a bloody mess, but i tell you, i feel good today, i woke up happy, my strumf was next to me sweet as always .- i want to say to the chinese guy i am sorry about all you chinese people.-
soon i want to share with you my strong experiences of the present past, very soon, but you know, i want you to care for me, how can i feel free to talk?http://www.mouchette.org/pages/Lida/ is a place i have already put some of my early things. soon when i ll find my own space you can see the rest. Thank you mouchette for the space! it is my first time and i am double happy to do it through you!
Athens is rainy today but i feel good!!!
My love to everyone!
22 Jan 2004 Elaine Billy, you were right. It's a monster.

I thought i was fine. Something about today broke me. I went to the back stall in the back bathroom after 1st period this morning and started crying. Only, this time i couldn't stop. The bell rang. People left. I cleaned myself up. I asked the nurse if i could go home. My stomach hurt. Saying nothing, she wrote me an off campus pass. I didn't need to worry about the attendance clerk, she murmered.
I'm home now, and for the past 9 hours I've cried myself into a weak ball of lazy submission.
There's nothing wrong with me. I'm not depressed. Dying is not my thing. But there's something about Today that broke me.
I'm only 16 and life is in every way grand. The moon is full and in the dark its light through my window embraces me like a warm streetlamp on winter's eve. Needs must be i am in every way marvelous magnificent and beatific. Tomorrow always grinning glorious. There was just something about today that broke me.
My eyes are swollen and my heart grows tired of struggling this way against gravity. Today is my last because tomorrow will be better.

good night.
i'm sorry.
18 Jan 2004 Felicia born in the year of the Monkey I missed you Phil! I thought you were gone. But you didn't appear in my dreams, so I assumed you were still alive. As one of my all time favourite posts posters please feel free to email me. I'm laying on the bed wallowing on my back, gazing at my protruding tummy.

Hi Billy. My name is Felicia. "Lucy's" talked much of you because she has big boobies. To be quite honest, you are so funny! I had a blast reading about your overview on the "Mayan" civilization which involved crossed eyed babies with stones in the middle of their foreheads. I laughed so hard on both you and Lucy's comments, I almost busted a stitch and my guts almost fell all over the floor.

Hi Elaine. You have a nice name. Please don't give up visiting this site because people still do care. If you need a woman to woman talk I am right here. But don't worry. I'm not lesbian. I'm strickly dickly. Ask Lucy about me and she'll give you a good word about me.

Chris....

Please get started in writing your book which is a bit interesting. I don't know how you do it, but you write pretty long... and that's a talent that should be well spent on a good novel.

and Mouchette.org...

For dealing with me and deleting my gripes on loud cultural shock music and my bouts with shock therapy. Yes, I am coming of age. And yes, I am born in the "Year of the Monkey" which begins January 22nd 2004.
17 Jan 2004 billy the freak so i'm sitting in the library making good use of the public internet system. i was thinking up a composition for the kit and fell face first into some writer's block, then it hit me, but it wasn't divine inspiration. it was the horrid odor of the fatso sitting at the terminal next to me. the words van halen stretched across his massive back. soda bottle glasses complemented his acne in a grotesque way. i can only describe him as ugly.
then a doctor comes in. i could tell he was a doctor because he was wearing green scrubs and a long white coat.
i don't remember exactly what he said but it was something like this: "i'm a big important doctor, i need to email my beautiful wife at our big mansion in the hills. i forgot my two thousand dollar laptop at my office. however i don't have a library card, i don't even belong to this library, i'm kinda pressed for time so..."
the librarian said. "sure go ahead i'll let you on even though i didn't let that man over there get on when he didn't have his card last week." i mean, basically thats what they said.
so the doctor comes over and dramatically moves the chair away from the terminal on the left side of me and starts to hop around while he fiddles with the computer.
how can i think with all these distractions? on my right i got stinky pete the whale who loves van halen. on my left i got dipshit the dancing doctor. then dipshit's phone rings not once, not twice, but three times. now everyone in the library is looking at him.
"i'll just take this to the lobby" he said in a voice like superman. thanks for saving us, and it's a hallway asshole. anyway, it was time to take a stand. i grabbed his keyboard and quickly typed www.womenwholovehorses.net bam!, and i hit search. about thirty seconds pass and a older librarian comes by. the look on her face was unforgetable when she saw long dong mr. ed banging barnyard betty.
"who was on this computer?" she asked me as she made the the filthy porn disappear.
"it was that doctor out there in the lobby." i answered with the widest grin.
"you mean out there in the hallway?"
"yeah, the hallway."
"thank you young man."
i gave her a nod as she hurried past me torwards the hallway. now the look on the doctor's face was priceless when the old woman told him they didn't appreciate filth here and and that he would have to leave. one down. now it was time for tubby. but then i saw he was on a website i fancy and figured i would let him enjoy it. but i had to tape about six of them pine tree air fresheners to his fat ass back. everything was fine and i began to write...
16 Jan 2004 Phil This is my first time looking at this site for a while now. And ohmygod, Billy, you are BACK!!! Finally escaped from that hell they call the pub, eh?
Yay, I didn't kill myself! I'm still alive and thriving now. Well not exactly, but I have my boyfriend and that's all I need.
I was in hospital around Xmas, and I will share it with you all. The first night there, a young asian doctor was doing his rounds. There was a deaf old man there who had just been in a plane crash. The doc went through the routine questions, until he came to "How are your bowels?" and of course the old man, bless him, could not hear him. So the doc shouted "HOW ARE YOUR BOWELS?!" But because of his strange asian accent, it sounded like he said "HOW ARE YOUR BABBELS?!"
Apart from that there was the lady in the bed opposite us who up until the point she burped, we thought she was just a corpse being stored out of the way. She even apologised and said "Pardon me!"
Then there were the nurses who were shocked at us two boys sleeping in a bed together, but I will tell you more about that soon....
15 Jan 2004 billy the freak elaine,
can't stop. are you addicted. claim you only dabble in it. well, jump in head first. it feels good. that's why i do it. lucy is still here. a matter of fact i think lucy is still posting, only as someone else. kill the old to make room for the new i always say. maybe lucy was tired of being lucy. maybe she wanted to change her style and felt she couldn't do it with the name lucy cortina, beautiful big breasted lucy cortina. i guess i can say i miss her too. even though we didn't start on the best of terms. well it is a new year and it is time for new things. i am still a slave to my my job. i'm still drinking and doing drugs. i still have sex with many different women. however, i have decided to grow a beard.

your friend billy
11 Jan 2004 Elaine I don't want to kill myself, not really, No. Sometimes all i really need are a few sleeping pills - i can sleep my life away until better times come, because they always do, i Know. And it's days like These that i remember Lucy Cortina and how she made us all laugh and how she helped cry away my tears.
I've been here years and am breaking a precedent - Listening is always so much pleasanter than partaking so I've never before posted. I guess tha'ts how i live my life and I've got now to assume that that's my problem and why days like these bring me down in ways like this.
Billy, i'm glad youre still around some, with Lucy's sudden departure i begin to feel like the rest of the world has moved on past this phase and I'm still stuck here in my sick desperation. I wonder, does she still check in on us?
Life, friends, family, school, strangers opress and judge all the time... this is my haven. Do you realise, my darling Mouchette, the importance of what you have created? I think you say it best yourself in an old post about our dear Lucy...
And as long as Lucy Cortina writes her daily story, I shall want to live one more day to know what she will write next.
... I think this marks the end of my stay on Mouchette.org. Seeing my own words tarnish the thoughts of others is more than I can take. Maybe this is all i need to move on. I am forever raptured, ruptured.
20 Dec 2003 billy the freak wow, i am very impressed with all of you, your writing of course. i finally got time to read some of the posts. mouchette, you're looking beautiful as always. chris, you are absolutely right. this is a safe place where you can express yourself, in many ways. some people come in here and just babble about nothing but they feel better when they're done, some people come in here and scream about how they want to hang their neck up and never come back. makes wonder if they might be hanging from a ceiling beam somewhere. you got people who want to give their best advice and hope they can save a life. then you got the ones who want to use it as a creative outlet like myself. i personally feel that's what makes this interesting. i was here from the beginning and right now this piece of art is taking a wonderful shape. be safe and have a happy holiday season.


lucy, have a wonderful christmas darling!!!

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