|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?
|15 Mar 2005||B||We all know that what keeps us from killing ourselves is HOPE--and hope comes in so many different forms. It's usually JUST enough. Hope, most of the time, is a pipe dream that we aren't supposed to get near. It is there only to keep us alive. So tell me, what happens when that hope, as far-fetched as it always seemed, becomes a reality, and then you JUST fail to reach it?
I made impossible goals for myself. They've kept me alive for 15 years because they were meant to be dreams...JUST ENOUGH, y'know? But whaddya know, I MET THOSE DREAMS! THEY ACTUALLY CAME TRUE!!
Well, I reached the ultimate dream--the ONE, y'know?--this weekend, and I think I failed. I was on such a run! First the ultimate failure who didn't care about her life, then the textbook overachiever who SO achieved!! (Had to earn her right to still be alive!) And I tried! I was so close to having it all! And I failed.
And I don't know what to do now!! Or think! Cuz the one thing that kept me alive for all these years was the chance to get where I just was--so that should be enough, right? Well, it's not-
I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DREAM (OPORTUNITY) WOULD COME TRUE so I never thought about how much damage it would cause when I blew the opportunity. Does this make sense? I'm freaking out.
I'll leave with this--an hour before a childhood friend killed himself, he wrote on paper, "Unity will keep us alive." He's right. I named my cat after that statement and I call her "Nity." Nity does keep us alive. Find it. Search for it. God bless and help us all---and search for Him, too, instead of blaming Him. See what that does for you and get back to me. Cuz if you do that, you'll BE HERE to get back to me. Faith is that powerful. It's crazy, but it's true! And guess what--CB wants to live, but he's dead. He ended it when he was 17--imagine where he'd be if he lived. I do. Same as I thank God I survived all those attempts of mine--they weren't half-ass, they were serious.
Just don't do it, ok? I've been on both sides, and right now I'm in the middle...
|08 Mar 2005||georgia||chew the wrong end of your pen|
|01 Mar 2005||Religious Maggie||Oooh yes Mary may have been a virgin but she certainly didn't have a virgin birth. I am a virgin too you know darlings. This is my gift to God, and one I shall be rewarded for in heaven. Mary was rewarded only once. I shall be rewarded again and again and again and again.
God is very saucy you know darlings. I was making some mashed potato for my dinner last night and he made me spill some of the mash onto my boobs! Yes it was warm and creamy so I decided I would rub it all over them. I made some peas with gravy too so I poured the whole pan of them over my boobs. Ooooh that was delightful, all those peas slippering across my boobs.
I accidentally slipped over onto the floor and then God propelled me across the floor on my boobs. Though if I eat beans I can propel myself across the floor with no hlep my darlings.
|27 Feb 2005||Rage Against the Dying of the Light||I have made the following deal to myself:
If I am ever am about to commit suicide, I am just going to get up and leave my life instead. I will take what ever money I can scrape together, and get on whatever train will bring me farthest away. I will leave a note explaining why I left, and end it with "Don't try and find me. It is better than I live dangerously for awhile than not live at all."
I would travel around everywhere I could, staying in random towns, sleeping outside, and making friends with homeless people. I would live without a plan and see what life offered me. I would sneak on to trains and commit small crimes in order to stay alive without a job, and frequently pass in and out of jail. I would see the desert and paint if I could manage to get the supplies, and see if I could find happiness when completely poor.
And maybe, if after living this way for a few years I still wanted to die, I would then be ready to do it. But, as much as I might want kill myself, I do not think I can judge life to be unworthy of living from the tiny amount of it that I have so far had.
It may be far-fetched, but I figure that I might as well give it a try, if I am about to die anyway.
|22 Feb 2005||Religious Maggie||It's snowing where I live so I've been boob-sledging in the snow. It's great fun. God is away on business so I'm trying to have as much fun as I can without him. He's gone to help the Pope out. Unfortunately he was busy giving me a divine boob-job when that Tsunami disaster happened so didn't make it in time. But it doesn't matter darlings, the Christians's believe that it was "God's will" anyway. Just like they will believe it's his will if the Pope gets better, but if God doesn't make it in time and the Pope dies they will also believe that it's God's will.
You see in the religious world everyone's a winner, especially my poosy, which is why I have devoted my life to God.
|20 Feb 2005||hang gook sa ram||making lines on my paper
with a crimson marker drawing slowly
over time becoming a grid
looking down at it, i am ashamed
i have created only spite...
Cutting, by me
|20 Feb 2005||Religious Maggie||Oh my, all this fuss about little old me. Like I've already said, God is MINE and I don't intend giving him up. I don't care the Big 14 if you are one of the misled religious types who believe in "no sex in church please, I'm an American". I know what religion is really about and it's MY relationship with God.
We are even going to get married you know. Doesnt that prove how special I am? Even Mary didnt get that privelage.
You see I am 'keeping myself' for God, so that I deserve him when I die, which is when we will get married.
I'd suggest you remember this the Big 14. For those who upset me shall have their boobs exploded by God.
Did I mention that God gave me a divine boob-job?
You can see the 'before' and 'after' pics on my profile.
|19 Feb 2005||I hate religious maggie||Dear Religious Maggie, I accept that you have the right to be a fucking idiot.
I'm glad you were raped. If I was a preist I would rape you myself! If I ever meet you I will rape you, even if you're a guy.
And Mouchette, sometimes you are the biggest fucking idiot in the world. Why the fuck did you put Religious Maggie's last post in your favourite section? She didn't even say anything worth while. What the hell! You have the worst taste! That stupid bitch just never shuts up about her pussy. Doesn't it get old?? Apparently not. What the fuck, you both just make me so mad! I'll clunk your heads together like the three stooges.
|19 Feb 2005||Rev. Poosy||Well, tomorrow for my church service i shall be having a stripper! You may well be asking "what a strange thing to do in a church". But you see, it will blend in with one of the hyms which has words like 'I WAS STRIPPED I WAS NAKED WERE YOU THERE WERE YOU THERE, I WAS STRIPPED I WAS NAKED WERE YOU THERE'. So you see folks, it makes sense to have a stripper. Im wondering whether Religious Maggie will get in on the act. She could boob slide up the aisle. Its 40ft long, the isle that is. But she would have to mind her head on the font. Maybe my gay boyfriend who is a Franciscan monk could join her. I guess he should be careful though because i would hate anything bad to happen to him. You see, it is known (not widely) that monks dont wear underwear! God Bless you my friends +|
|18 Feb 2005||Religious Maggie||Dear the big 14. I am sorry if I offend you but I have the right to enjoy my life with God. God is MINE and mine only and I believe you are trying to steal him from me. You will never succeed, I am his favourite! Me, me me!!|
|18 Feb 2005||Jason||What's the big deal? It's just death. Nothing hard nore complex. It's a fact of life. The weak die and the strong live. If you really can't take it maybe you don't deserve to live. I mean breathing, sleeping, and eating are easy. That's the basis of living. But it's not all there is to it. And that's the hard part. Death is just a release from struggles. Nothing else. It can be up to you or it may not be. But if you are going to do it go some place where you won't get caught or stopped. And make sure it's a fail safe way. And always remember the devil still wants you. Burning in hell for all eternity that is. And also remember that the people that pushed you to this will end up there as well so you won't be apart for long. You make your own choices! Don't let others make them for you! There are right and wrong reasons to die. It's up to you to decide the difference. But with either choice make sure to put your whole heart into it. Half assing it won't work here. It's your life and your choice to live it or end it. NO one elses. Choose well my friends. Choose well. Godspeed.|
|31 Jan 2005||Lucy Cortina||Last time I left you all gasping in shock at the thought of me being carried away by the police, boobies bare and swinging. However it didn't end quite like that.
After the woman shouted "call the police!" I panicked. I couldn't have my boobs boobhandled by the police!! I've heard what happens in prison, they take away your bra so you can't hang yourself with it. As if I would commit breasticide again! It caused me enough trouble the last time I did it. Anyway I panicked and looked around for an escape exit. There was a gap in-between two wobblers (fat women) which was my best bet. God help me if I should become squashed between them. I ran towards them, and a look of pure terror appeared on their over-sized faces. They tried to duck but it was too late - I was running at them with such force that my boobs sort of flapped out to the sides (almost like boobie-shaped wings) and hit them with such force that they were sent flying. They landed on their backs and because of their size, couldn't get up again. I kept on running. My boobs were swinging about as I ran, it was actually very hard to run because of the weight of them. I managed to find a hiding spot in the park, and as it was dry, I sat down. I noticed that my boobs were sort of shrinking in size, very slowly, but they were shrinking. What on earth is wrong with them?! They expand when I'm in public yet they shrink when I'm in private. I have a pair of exhibitionist breasts! Luckily I had a new pink top packed in my bag, so I took it out and put it on. Very sexy. I went home and lay in my bed to cleanse myself of the shame of what had happened that day.
I was woken the next day by my sister jumping on my bed, singing "Boobie girl boobie girl, I'm a boobie girl, in a boobie world!" For the sake of Albert's pickled brain I'm sick of hearing about boobies! I went downstairs and asked mum what was up with my sister. "Oh haven't you heard?" she said. "A girl with enormous hooters killed a pigeon and then attacked two women last night near the park. It was in the newspaper this morning".
OH NOOO OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOOO.....!!!
|27 Jan 2005||REDDEATH||Nîn awr sa a xun ten mi a san
Amin menr a fianwa
Eller sa numanat hyari ten mi
Cael da coia
|25 Jan 2005||i hate france||IT JUST DAWNED ON ME THAT TECHNOLOGY IS NOT AS ADVANCED AS IT COULD BE.
FOR INSTANCE, THE SOUND THAT MY BUTTCHEECKS JUST MADE AS HOT GASSES PASSED THRU THEM CAN NOT BE EXPRESSED THRU THIS COMPUTER. NOW WHILE YOU ARE THRILLED THAT THE COMPUTERS CANNOT DO THIS I AM DISPLEASED. CAN YOU IMAGINE THE MAYHAM IF EVERYONE COULD SEND AN EMAIL THAT WHEN YOU OPENED IT UP WAS A FART. IT WOULD BE ON THE NEWS.
TONIGHT AT TEN.... A NEW TECHNOLOGY HAS ENABLED PEOPLE TO SEND FARTS IN AN EMAIL. IT HAS TURNED OUT TO BE A NEW EPIDEMIC OF INTERNET TERRORISM. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION OF THE WHEREABOUTS OF THESE TERRORISTS PLEASE CALL YOUR LOCAL FBI HOTLINE. DO NOT TRY TO APPROACH THESE TERRORISTS BECAUSE IT IS SAID THAT THEY ARE DANGEROUS AND HAVE BIOLOGICAL AND CHEMICAL WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION AND THEY HAD BEANS FOR SUPPER LAST NITE. HERES BOB FRENCH WITH THE WEATHER....
|23 Jan 2005||Lucy Cortina||The other day I killed a pigeon with my boobies. Allow me to explain:
Since my bra collection is now missing, I have been using a makeshift bra - the largest one I could find. And I bought it from one of those shops "for the larger person". As I walked in, the "larger" people stared at me like I was some freak. Well I suppose being as slim as I am I did look out of place there. I pointed at my boobs, then everyone seemed to instantly understand why I was there, and that I was "one of them", at least in the boobie department. All the women turned and carried on looking at the tent-sized negligés, underwear and so on, whilst the men were still oogling at my boobies. I remained dignified by looking at the bra section with my nose stuck up in the air. It didn't last long though as I was having trouble seeing the bras, which is saying something as they were enormous. I chose the largest size there, a huge pink bra with extra-strong straps on it made out of leather. I fully knew that it would never contain my breasts should they expand, but this was the best I would find at such short notice.
After wearing my new bra for about 10 minutes (I put it on in the public toilets, a woman walked in on me and immediately ran out screaming) my boobs were starting to feel sweaty and the bra straps were creaking under the enormous strain. "Not in public!" I thought. I knew what was about to happen so I panicked. There were people everywhere except a patch of grass where some pigeons were feeding. I swung my whole body around so my boobs were facing them, at which point my bra straps snapped. My boobs shot out of my top at practically light speed, which was when everything went into one of those "slow motion" freeze-frame things you see in movies. My boobs were hurtling towards the pigeons, I screamed "Nooo ooh ooho oooo" in one of those distorted slow-motion voices, and the pigeons all took flight.
My boobs hit the pigeon before it even had chance to look up. It was of course crushed on the spot. Seeing my boobs squishing against the pigeon was horrific. At least it died happy. But I wasn't happy.
"Help me! Help meeeeeeee! There's dead pigeon stuck to my boobs! Get it off! Get it off!!!"
I swung my boobs around and around frantically trying to shake off the feathers and blood and dead pigeon covering my boobs. A clump of tail feathers and blood flew off me and hit a woman on her bum, but she thought her boyfriend had pinched it and hugged him. Everyone was staring at me and one woman shouted "CALL THE POLICE!!"
To be continued..............
|19 Jan 2005||Lucy Cortina||Well really Felicia! At this rate I shall have no bras left. I would go Bra Shopping but they don't stock them in XXXXXXXXXL sizes. My bra collection was custom-made which is why I need it back so urgently. Mouchette I swear that if you snap any of them for sexual pleasure I will personally use them to strangle you with, assuming you are the culprit of course.
At the moment I am, as you may have guessed, braless. So my boobs just hang under my [very]low-cut pink top, with no support at all. I have had a few men in cars hooting at my hooters, which disturbs me because I am far too sophisticated for them.
Felicia (how are you darling by the way?) you had better come up with a replacement for the damaged goods (I mean bras) otherwise I will tar you with the same spanking brush as Mouchette. Now just you think about that.
|19 Jan 2005||Felicia NOT so Great||Dear Lucy Cortina,
Today I shaved a dog. The hair got in my bra; as a result I ended up with a hairy chest. It was a fur bearing Chow (mean little runt) and a decrepit Maltese, and a disgruntled Yorkie, who did me injustice today. I shaved a Yorkshire Terrier too short and a customer replied, Alas! I will never come here again!" As I said "Sorry" over and over again, my world of self-destructiveness came to no end.
The smell of wet dog lingers in my dungaroos.
Save me Lucy!! A dog just mauled your rubber gift. I no longer have a pair of them anymore.
...For there is only one.
|17 Jan 2005||Lucy Cortina||Alert! Alert! My secret bra collection has been stolen! After checking the top-secret nuclear Bra Bunker where agent Danny stashed them, I discovered that they have all been pilfered. Now that is surely [cryogenic] grave-robbing at its sexiest? Perhaps they imagined that Lucy Cortina, moi, was an Egyptian Queen-turned-goddess and that my bras were special. Yes that will be it.
Agent Danny had hidden them before I was frozen so that the mad Dr Philville wouldn't find them and sell them to Mouchette. But I fear that Mouchette did some detective work and discovered them all by himself. Mouchette is now number one suspect in this case...
I do know the location of the Inflatable variety - darling Felicia borrowed them in a fit of lesbianism - but the leather, PVC, silk, gold, strapless, frontless and frillyness varieties have all gone. There was a dirty looking white bra in the bunker but such a bra wouldn't be seen on my boobs even if they were dead (which isn't that unlikely).
WHO STOLE THEM??? I need them to be found ASAP. There were many sizes of bras to fulfill the needs of my very demanding boobs, but now with the recently diagnosed BreastInflating illness that I have, normal bras can no longer contain them (as if they did before). I do hope this mystery will be solved soon, otherwise I will have to file a Boobsuit against Mouchette. It really is le grand mystére de les pantaloons...
*Note: I speak in French every now and then only to satisfy my French Fans*
|05 Jan 2005||Lucy Cortina||UPDATE ON MEEEE:
My breasts are very unstable and keep inflating and deflating. There doesn't seem to be a cure. My previous pair tragically died and departed to the Great Boobie Heaven, they're probably sat in a prayer circle wearing silk bras and chanting as we speak.
I am told that I was frozen on Mount Booby and have been recently revived. Apparently I am still the same age as I was when I was frozen, yet everyone else has gotten older. That is actually true as my little sister is now into boys and brings them home to do "kissy poos" as she calls them. She puckers up her lips like a vacuum cleaner, and kisses the boys with an evil glint in her eyes, almost as if she's sucking out their souls. The poor boys have to be pulled off her in the end and we never see them again. My sister then moves onto her next victim.
I still have spots, even being frozen for over a year couldn't get rid of them. I think it's about time I put an end to this nonsense and booked myself into an Ugly Hospital (which is probably run by Ugly Nurses. I hope it isn't contagious!)
Mouchette, as you already know, SSSS can no longer deliver me to you. I'm done with the SSSS, just look what trouble they have caused me. I'm now considering new career options, I've had a lot of offers after the publicity from being found on Mount Booby (which, unbelievably, looks even larger than both of my boobs morphed into one when they are fully expanded (imagine that!)) I am considering offers of doing a special weekly edition of "Boobie News" for the BBBC (British Boobie Broadcasting Co-operation), so watch this space.
|03 Jan 2005||Buck||-And I am starting to come down
-And the grim reaper causally says Anytime you are ready
-And I feel like sludgy snow stained brown because of the smog
-And my will to live has reached a level best described as ehhh, whatever
-there is nothing to be learned here and I gain only a little comfort by the hollow warmth.
-I am a kid on halloween eating too much candy and guilty and getting sick,
-I am the little innocent told to go away because new people cannot learn to play the castle game
-And I am a little kid buried under books and cold people and words.
-The Grateful Dead is on and using drugs to try and force the will to live only works for so long.
(- for where the new lines really should be)