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

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?
05 Jan 2003 Michael Mackellar What the hell is that HELLO DOLLY post all about? i thought that was the name the mad scientists gave to the cloned sheep they felt so inclined to subject to heartless redundance... Was it a hint towards having a clone operation performed, and then conditioning your newself in such a manner that he/she becomes perfectly manipulatable?
05 Jan 2003 Michael Mackellar Hell was also having the Woman of your Dreams go fucking symparanecromenial, convincing her to shove a sewing needle through left testicle.
05 Jan 2003 Michael Mackellar How would you define Eternity, Lucy ?
04 Jan 2003 Michael Mackellar Should i dare to awake before the aftermath of the impending inevitability, i feel as though i already know just what the most conniving flames of hell have in store for me...................... no recollection of You.
02 Jan 2003 Michael Mackellar i am vacant from this world in a moment of solitude. i wish to apprehend strength from the ever exhaustion of others. my energy has been sucked from my bone marrow and harvest upon by the vultures of wandering eyes. i now can acknowledge where the strengths derive to arrive from ones lack of intensity and ingenuity. okay, i rest and reserve my strength within the regions where my soul cautizes and dissimulates growth. the best element i have come to comprehend is the measurement of Time. the vultures do not dare conceive time as a gift but a force that damages their waking existence. i now know i can walk, walk out my door and see what i had never dreamed of seeing at the start.............................. GAOLACH DIA the depths of winter longing are ice within my heart/ the shards of broken covenants carve deep into my soul/ the wraiths of long lost ecstasy still tear us two apart/ these sullen winds of bitterness now keen from turn to pole// the scars and twisted tendons the stumps of off-struck limbs/ this aching pit of hunger and throb of unset bone/ my sanded burning eyeballs as light within them dims/ add nothing to this torment of lying here alone// the shimmering flames of fever trace out your blessed face/ my broken eardrums echo yet your voice inside my head/ i do not fear this darkness which crawls toward me apace/ i only dread the loss of YOU that comes when i am dead.... Happy New Year!!! another year to kill... within the forgetful remembrance of how it feels to be alive. ~in the end we tend to love our desires and to loathe what is desired~ Sometimes i feel as though our god must actually be the god of slumber, and that all this blasted time is simply some horridly morbid wet dream that she is going through. Either that or god has become the mother of reverse atheism. What with being responsible for the creation of Infinite Fallibility (aka human consciousness) who could possibly blame her for self inducing some wicked strain of amnesia as means to maintain a shred of sanity. Good Heavens! What a strange matter of humanity being conditioned by time to lose faith in the necessity of a god.... and god, through the distanced romance of eternity, convincing herself that she never really believed in humanity to begin with.
i have had an odd experience involving the consequences of Selbstmord. i had lodged myself in my station wagon, within the midst of a perfectly concealed surrounding upon the outskirts of Pleasant Prairie. The exhaust was pouring in through my father's shop-vac hose and everything was beginning to compose a well conceived silence. It somewhat suddenly dawned upon me that i was far too young, so i pulled myself away. Yet i find it all rather strange since more than 45 minutes limped by before i made my supposed escape... from my escape. i find myself feeling as though perhaps i did succeed. 45 minutes in the throes of such resplendent reasoning is far more than enough time to bump oneself off... perhaps the aftermath of a self-induced disposal is simply a subtle shift in the profound indifference of time/logic. i don't know, perhaps i have been dead for quite some time now, even though i still fancy myself as being so young. Perhaps reality is far more heartless and more conniving than any of us... discontents... could ever dare to imagine. All we have to do is provoke it. The tricks life plays those who are sick enough to take it seriously are far more absurd, no question. imagine
02 Jan 2003 Marius Mackellar Let us pray that nature has developed her sense of discretion, and that she makes good use of it when transmitting the profound fumblings of our history... Lest she blind the very stars with such resplendent unsightliness.

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