|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.|
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?
|03 Jul 2002||billy||cigarettes are going up one dollar in tax this sunday that makes them almost five dollars in my area and more in others. many of the people who smoke and like to bitch about things claim they are going to quit. too bad they are hopelessly addicted. i think i am going to buy stock in nicontrol. that way i can afford to keep smoking.|
|02 Jul 2002||billy weepingfreak||this is billy: my goal today is to kill lucy cortina with kindness. please you ample breasted sex god, i need you to be here, you give me inspiration, motivation, and aggravation. all three of these things are great, therefore you are great. i am sure mouchette misses you, i miss your snotty british humor, so come back , @>-}-----|
|02 Jul 2002||billy|| in the united states we have a holiday called independance day. in 1776 we declared ourselves as an independant country, no longer to be subject to the tyranny and religious oppression of king george the 3rd. we were finally free to govern ourselves (but not without a shit load of blood shed). this is a monumental point in history and and has shaped this very nation.
this is a time to celebrate. a time to jump up and say "i am proud to be a red blooded, white skinned american" as you hand the fifty bucks you were going send to the 9-11 fund over to a greasy mexican selling fire works out of his van. this is a time to get drunk and beat your wife and kids in the privacy of your own home. this is a time to find any reason to start a fight with that man you know from india. it is a time to eat red, white, and blue candy sprinkles of your cone as you watch a fireworks display from the downtown stadium. this is a time you should not bother thinking about the suffering in other countries. this is a time you should lay your head on your comfortable pillow and go to sleep in a world you feel is safe.
|28 Jun 2002||girl having violent thoughts||hey, mouchette, you are actually writing and posting on your site, that's so cool!! its so neat to see you actually, i've never seen u on the site before, writing i mean. hey, i am just curious, if u read this, how old are u now? anyhow, i dont get this whole lucy and billy thing.
oh, and if anyone has a GUN, and wants to lend it, or sell it to me, please tell me, i will give money.
|28 Jun 2002||billy the freak||lucy is a transexual. mouchette is a website. billy is a freak. it all goes together perfectly. like the pieces of a puzzle, an extremely complex one at that. so, today rain has brought a good break for me. i decided to sit on my front porch and and feel the cool misty air on my face. (as i have expressed in earlier posts i hate the sun) it felt envigorating! my face, arms and feet were tingling in a natural sort of way, i decided to strip down to my keks and prance around, i felt so very free. i was in the back yard dancing in my boxers, having the time of my life. then bridget came. she had a tomato soup can in her hand and a smile on her face. " what are you doing billy" she said in a half controled half chuckling voice. "what does it look like, bridget" i replied sarcasticly. i love bridget, i want bridget, i will never have bridget. " it looks like you're dancing in your underwear, i came down here to see if you wanted to play kick the can, but since you are busy i will go down to bennet's house" she started to walk slowly away, i know she wanted me to say something, so i did " hey bridget i will play with you but we need more people, and we need to play by my rules". i had the widest grin, i looked like cheshire cat. no sooner then me saying that she pulled off her sun dress and joined the party. her radient beauty excited me, but i kept it under control. i was proud of myself. she ran into my house and called her sister and a couple of her friends. it became a big underwear party, soon people joined in off the street. so we laughed and played kick the can and limbo, all in our underwear. somebody started to pass around a couple joints and all went crazy. pot must be some kind of aphrodisiac. so party moved inside and became an orgy. it is going on as i type this. i don't get into all that. bridget is right here looking through my sketch pad. she is asking me very nicely to come sit on the bed with her. maybe i will get lucky tonight, cross your toes for me. everybody, it is time to go home, find your clothes and get out.
:: REMEMBER KIDS WHEN HAVING GROUP SEX USE A DIFFERENT CONDOM FOR EACH PARTNER MALE OR FEMALE ::
|27 Jun 2002||Lucy||Bloody hell.. I've been away, what, 2 days?
I have more important things to worry about, Billy. Plastic surgery is no stroll in the graden, you know.
Talk to you later-
|27 Jun 2002||billy the freak||hey, maybe lucy killed herself. lucy, say something say anything. where is your fighting spirit. if i were to admit that i had no idea where your writings came from. would you come back? lucy we need you, don't get a life now.|
|27 Jun 2002||billy the freak||lucy, what's wrong? you find hard to be original. you don't have to write stories, just share thoughts or little humorus quips. anything lucy, i'll be waiting.
|26 Jun 2002||billy the freak||mouchette, are those pictures on this really you? no matter, i have my own image of you that floats in my head. that is enough for me. second, is it pronounced mew shay or moe shet? i must know that. i thought you website was promotion free. i just got hit up with all these traveling promotions , i guess i was wrong about that. sure, maybe i will travel out to amsterdam to see you love, take care all.
ps- which is better pepsi or coke?
|26 Jun 2002||billy the freak||back when the mayan civilization flourished they had many traditions and rituals that were done thousands of years before this outstanding race even died out. one of them rituals was for aristocrat mothers to put flat stones on their newborns forehead. the reason they did this was to make thier child's forehead oblong and pointy. then they would hang shiney pieces of gold between the child's eyes, but not before they secured the head from moving. this would cause the child to focus on the piece of gold between it's eyes and go cross eyed. sounds weird, right. the mayan believed that it was sign of wealth and beauty, doctors today believe that this practice in many of cases probably caused brain disorder, go figure. i have no problems with the mayans, and i enjoy studying history, especially ancient civilizations. my only thing is if they wanted to have deformed cross eyed retards for kids, why didn't the expecting mother just smoke crack, i mean that works, right.|
|24 Jun 2002||billy the freak||mouchette i don't believe i have answered your initial question. i will do it now: when childhood dies, the corpses are called adults. simply grow up. it has been said before, and it is true. i feel myself getting closer to death everyday. the moment you are born you begin to die from a mean illness called life. there is no cure for it, but there is plenty of drugs that will make the painful days easier. that is my best advice i can give to anyone.|
|23 Jun 2002||Mouchette||Hi Lucy, Billy, and whoever thinks it's meaningful to be published in this section of my site. It's perfectly fine with me to use already existing texts as a source of inspiration. I am myself recycled from a french film of the 60's. That's where I got the suicide-before-13 thinggy and without it, you wouldn't even be here!.... Only the quality of the text matters, and not how it was made. So Lucy, Billy, do your best and don't be lazy: one of you must win!|
|23 Jun 2002||billy the freak||wow, another morning i see the sun rise. oh no, i didn't get up for the beautiful miracle, certainly not. i just didn't get any sleep. i could give a fuck less if the sun comes up or not. it is always dark, no matter, your attempt to provide light is in vain, for i walk around with my eyes closed anyway. no longer will you char my pale flesh. i have a new sunscreen bitch, it's called fuck off sun. i don't like the moon much either. i would kill to be able to change myself one time, then this bitch does it all the time. you know the moon is a girl, right. she has her time of the month were she bloated (she likes to call it full, full moon not fat, bloated, gassy moon) then she wants to be a bitch and make all these werewolves and crazy people come out. then she gets deppressed because everyone says "blame it on the moon". she brings that shit on herself, and she is cocky about the whole deal. she will come out when the bastard sun is doing his hellish thing, because she knows he can't bust the scene when she's doing her biz. he is over there harrassing the crocodile hunter. (lewis carol, the walruss and the carpenter, excellent poem) but anyway if i had to invite one of them to a party, i would pick the moon, simply because he is an arrogant hot head that thinks the world revolves around him, go figure. i have been saving these pills for three days, i think i will sleep now. good night|
|22 Jun 2002||Lucy Cortina||You knew where my writings come from? I smell bullshit again... so far I haven't heard anyone give an exact place where they come from, as you say.
Look at the music industry. These days they take an old classic song, change the lyrics for the better, add a new 'twist' and generally end up with a better song. That is simply what I have done. And as you will not have heard of it at all in the U.S, it has been nice to teach you it.
Now, lets all stop this nonsense and get on with forms of suicide.
You have made some funny contributions, Billy, and all of this fighting talk rather spoils it all. Lets stop it, eh?
Ps- Well done England in the World Cup!
|21 Jun 2002||billy the freak||okay, sorry it has been a while, but i just caught up with myself. the fucking pig company i worked for decided they no longer needed my services. so, i decided i needed a vacation. i went to a place called alcozan. no, that's not some place in the middle east, that is the state reality, or at least what you think is real when you drink and take zannies. well, i just got back, and i need to settle down, you know i would have stayed longer but the poppy ran short, and rent's due. i need a fucking job. i guess it's good to be back.|
|10 Jun 2002||billy the freak||hey i got a piece hate mail the today from someone who shall be nameless. mouchette, i bet that's a person who gets hate mail. my point is this web could or could not be the place to say your final words. as you can see, many people have found a creative outlet (excluding lucy cortina) to share their thoughts of death, perceptions of death, which in fact is a touchy subject to even talk about, let alone get something off their chest. not one time have i seen anyone say "goodbye cruel world" and type the last date of their lives. in fact you see many names return to the site to say something witty or give an update of what's going on with them. i personally feel that mouchette's web site gives children, adults and pretty much any age a place to say hey i'm having troubles right now. furthermore mouchette is a fully interactive web site so check the rest of it out, it is great! ***on a personal note*** every day when i get up from my bed i look at my wrists. i look at the scars of my past. what used to be gaping wounds of emotional agony, hate, and resentment, what is now nothing but healed over guilt. a mound of tissue reminding me i am selfish and sick. i am not saying i don't get depressed i am saying there is much better things, and many good narcotics.|
|04 Jun 2002||billy the freak||don't you just hate it when the conductor of a speeding train sees you laying on the tracks in just enough time to slow down so that you don't get hit? next fucking time I am going to meet the bitch half way!|
|04 Jun 2002||billy the freak|| (1)
so i jumped on a bus the other day, i felt ill to think of all the strange people i would sit next to on this long ride. i came to a man about seven seats back that smelled of gasoline and dirt. he had a sign around his neck that said our savior is coming. to think and i'm not ready! if would have known i would've got my cat to make some potato salad. i asked him if i could sit down or is this seat saved for jesus. he simply scoffed at me and focused his gaze on the world outside the bus. i sat in the seat behind him. the tint on the windows made the bright shiny people pale or was it the fact that i was finally leaving town? i grew up here. i learned all the important values here. to leave now would be different, it would be some type of evil. fuck no, i'm glad i'm leaving, this city makes me sick. the bus is pretty empty so i think i will take a nap and dream of something great.
|04 Jun 2002||billy the freak||my mind is a vacant lot. instead of asphalt i decided to put down gravel and broken beer bottles, that way if something does start running through my mind, hopefully it falls and gets a nasty scrape.|
|01 Jun 2002||billy the freak||i found myself in an odd position today, there was a man in my house, he was sitting on my couch . I didn't know who he was, how he got there, or how he died. Yeah man, there was a dead man on my couch! You ask what i did? Well, i did what any normal person would do: I ran his pockets, and get this, the stiff had eighty dollars on him! But anyway, I then decided to throw him out the third story window. That is because my flat was located on the first floor and I didn't think that it would make a big enough splat, you know... If you do something, make it dramatic. So, then i started pulling him up the steps of my apartment complex, his head made a thud against each concrete step that was so sickening. He was a heavy fucker so I had to take several breaks from the hard manual labor, you know... i made time for lemonade and to chat with my many neighbors in the complex. They all seemed to say the same thing about my situation: "you're dumping another body billy", "that is the third one this week". Sure if they got stuck hauling the bodies around they know I wouldn't poke fun. So finally i knocked on this girl's door, i used to fuck her all the time, but now only when one of us are desperate. She understood and let me and my friend in, though I did most of the talking. The window was my laundry chute of burden, soon would this nightmare be taken away. So I propped him up on the edge, and told him I loved him, then I sent him to the street. I didn't even take time to look at what was probably the most foul thing ever. Half of my day was already wasted and it is like what my neighbour said, that was the third body this week, and it's only tuesday.|