|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?
|05 Sep 2003||Hanriq Guingois|| Do you ever feel like you're experiencing a powerful and terrifying shift in your fundamental consciousness? Do you ever have thoughts that horrify you? Oh, dear God, was that me who just thought that evil thought? Do you ever open your eyes in the morning and wonder if you're the same person who went to sleep the night before? Do you ever think, "Aw, screw it. Why do I even try? What's the point? Everything always goes to hell anyway." Do you ever wonder if the guy bringing you your soup hates your guts because he has to wait on you and pretend to be pleasant all the while knowing in his heart that he's a better man than you and his current servile status is final proof of an unjust universe? Do you ever think, "People are only nice to me because they want something?" Do you ever think, "I'm only being nice to this person because I want something?"
Well, the reason I bring all this up is to reassure you that I don't. Just thought you'd like to know... although I can't help but feel that you're not particularly happy for me.
|05 Sep 2003||Karen Elson||sometimes you can sense yourself retreating into a very private space inside yourself. there is activity around you. you can see that your hands are accomplishing some task. yet you are not there. i hear in my head what i have been writing for weeks. there are many obligations. a digital piano is one of them. i am obligated to myself in this way. don't die with the music
inside of you. ....................
|05 Sep 2003||Gisele Bundchen|| The Buddha taught that the first principle of existence is impermanence.
Absolutely everything in this universe is impermanent.
Impermanence creates uncertainty.
I don't know about you, but I have a very low tolerance for uncertainty.
Uncertainty causes me discomfort.
Discomfort causes me to think stupid things.
Stupid thoughts cause me to take stupid actions.
My stupid actions bring about unfortunate results.
Luckily, the unfortunate results are impermanent.
Is this a great universe or what?
|05 Sep 2003||Nomed Cilegna||SYMPARANECROMENIAN FAVOURITES. VOL.31
The Gay Punk was mildly disoriented when he realized he and Just A Girl were the same person. This sort of cognitive moment tends to undermine a guy's sense of self. But it didn't stop there. When The Gay Punk looked around the room, he realized he was also Lucy and Emily and Mouchette and Mackellar. Heck, he was also the imaginary Ghost-orchids on the sight-front. Suddenly he felt enormous compassion for all these variations on himself, or rather "ourself", which he thought was a more appropriate label. The pain of loneliness and the fear of death were suddenly swept away by this one blinding flash of insight. It was so obvious! There are no separate forms of life. Life was life, just sort of wandering around looking at itself, loving itself, and unfortunately killing itself. Which is when The Gay Punk woke up, wanked, showered and shaved, went to work, worried about nonsense, drove home, watched a supposedly funny show, had a stiff drink and went to sleep again.
|05 Sep 2003||Peter Hoeg (Mackellar)||It was a novel thought for Krisha: What if she's not someone who is perpetually in need of repair? What if the real grunt work of self-improvement is simply being aware of the things one thinks, feels, says and does? Krisha decided to put her novel thought to the test by being aware of the first feeling that came along. As it turned out, her first brain guest was the feeling of horny. Krisha was aware that she was horny. But, her awareness told her she was not so much horny as lonely. And the loneliness was really just a deep-seeded fear that she was unworthy of being loved...... even by herself. Suddenly, Krisha no longer felt horny. Now she felt hungry. But not so much hungry as sad. And the sadness was really just a deep-seeded fear that she was unworthy of being loved...... even by herself. Which caused Krisha to no longer feel hungry. Now she felt insane. But, that was okay because she was aware of it. And it wasn't so much insane as psychologically giddy.|
|05 Sep 2003||Chuck Lorre||I believe I think too much. I believe I'm literally drowning in a thick swamp of thoughts. No, swamp's not right. It's more like being in the middle of a swarm of bees, all of them flying insanely about, occasionally stinging for no apparent reason. Yup, bees, definitely -- thoughts are bees. In fact, I believe my entire understanding of the world is based on my thoughts, which are generated by my emotions, which are generated by ... well, I guess my reaction to stuff that happens. Anyway, I understand the world through the filter of my thoughts and emotions. If this is pretty much how you understand the world, it brings up an interesting concept. Probably since we were infants, none of us have directly perceived this world we live in. What does it mean to directly perceive something? Well, I suppose it would mean to be totally with that thing, as opposed to observing and thinking about it. It's a duality issue. Here's me, here's you. here's me, here's the sofa. Ya dig where this is going? We live on a planet dominated by a race of beings whose only connection to reality is constantly buzzing, mental bees. We're all walking through life in a dream state that is, at best, a funhouse mirror-image of what's really out there. It makes you think, doesn't it? Ouch! Dammit!|
|30 Aug 2003||Chris||Have you ever thought about who was the first person to think about a particular thing? For example, who was the first person to look at a lobster and think, "I bet that tastes just delicious" or who was the first to decide that forty plus years of your life were best spent working, only coming to an end when you are not fit to do anything else? Who was the first person to take some dough, cheese and scraps of tomato, put it in an oven and call it pizza (I would build a statue to this guy), who was the very first person to take an anti-malaria medicine and mix it with an anti-constipation drink and call it gin and tonic, thus creating one of the world's most poular drinks (another statue for this guy), who was the very first person to look at tobacco and say, "I bet that tastes good and looks cool if you smoke it" and indeed, very important, who was the first guy who had problems and said "killing myself will release me" (another statue you say)! The list goes on and on. But no other field can compete with fashion when it comes to making the most bizarre idea cool and de rigueur.
Recently I was lucky enough (I think) to be present at the birth of a new style statement. I am talking not about fashion design but those little quirks which separate the ordinary people from the mega-trendy. Remember the time when everyone wore their sunglasses suspended under their chin? Now, ask yourself, who was the first person to look into the mirror as his shades dangled from his ears and thought, "Yes!, Yes!, Yes! That's the look for the summer this year!" A year or so back there was the short lived sunglasses on the back of the head but it didn't last. What about back to front baseball caps then... what is that all about and who was the fashion guru who thought that a reversed baseball cap was to the last word in style? Pullovers tied around the neck... what can I say except that I assume someone was so hung over one morning that he couldn't manoeuvre his arms and hands through the appropriate holes in his wooly and just gave up and tied it around his neck and tootled off to work, never suspecting that he had just launched the look of the decade, condemning thousands of men to never know what their jumpers look like worn properly. Of course no Italian male over the age of seven has ever been known to wear his jacket or topcoat any other way except draped over his shoulders. Could it be that the same guy with the hangover responsible for the jumper in a knot created this one too?
But back to my experience at the birth of a new style statement. Recently while on holiday for a few days I was relaxing at an outdoor cafe, enjoying the view and equally enjoying the parade of fashionable people ambling past, when I had a shock to my system. Low and behold, sauntering down the street was a chap with his head on backwards! I can assure you that there are few things more shocking on a summery day than seeing someone approach with his head on the wrong way. But my astonishment, happily, was fleeting because as he came closer it became obvious (even to me drinking Jack Daniels and strong red wine during the hot, summery daytime) that in fact his head wasn't 180 degrees out of synchronisation but he was wearing his jacket not only draped over his shoulders but draped over his front and not his back. As you can imagine this came as a tremendous relief to me (as much on his behalf as mine), a feeling that was rapidly replaced by one of elation... for it was at this point that I realised that I was in the presence of a true trend-setter, just at the point in history when he was busy setting his new trend. If I had been a little less awe-struck I would have stopped him and asked him if he was the jumper, jacket and back to front baseball cap guy but alas all I could do was gape in admiration as he proceeded on his trendy way down the street. As you can imagine my next step (after downing my drinks) was to dash back to my room and see what my own jackets and raincoat look like draped and back to front but sad to say the result was a very poor reflection of the wizard!
So you see, some time ago I talked about my bad looks at the beach with me looking bad in baggy swim shorts and a not very sexy tan and now this! Everytime I try wearing something sexy and looking cool I fail. I am anything but a fashion guru. Summer is really suicidal!
See ya, hopefully with a jacket draped and back to front (if you look good in it)...
|28 Aug 2003||jacek||why kill yourself, if we kill self always too late?|
|27 Aug 2003||Lucy Cortina||It is my, uh, mid-years resolution now to steer clear of girls for at least a few weeks. I have nothing against lesbians, however, my theory is this:
Lesbian sex is like eating a wet lettuce salad when hunger demands that you scoff a big, juicy...
burger. (in a bun of course!)
So, I am on a little merry holiday of my own, Mouchette (take that!) I am on holiday with a good pal of mine, who happens to be a gay professor (to minimise all temptations).
However he seems to be mistaking my naturally flirty manner as having meaning.
Last night, I sat up in bed reading a Jackie Collins novel (a girl needs to get her fix somehow!)
Anyway, as I yawned, I said to the prof, "I am in bed professor.
Are you ready?"
Which was when he gasped and said "Ready for what????!"
And I said, "For switching off the light".
He seemed to relax then, and said "Ohh...yes".
We are staying in a caravan near one of those huge astronomical observatories, to look out for Mars, as it is apparently very close to Earth right now. I have got all my panties and bras stored in a special fridge, and I have a nice laptop PC to browse suicide websites.
Happy holidays to me!
|26 Aug 2003||Lucy Cortina||Ooh! 1 day to go until our dear Mouchie gets back and announces he had a secret wedding to Kylie Minogue in Bali.|
|18 Aug 2003||Felicia on Economical Spending||My stress of Arnold being the next governor is hazy. But for all you know he may be good. Some American born citizens become judgmental by assuming Arnold Schwarzenegger will win through popular vote in the recall election and be a terrible California State Governor.
For one thing as far as math skills, Arnold counts his safe and swiss accounts daily from the residual incomes of blockbuster Terminator hits along with Olympia Gold Medals, including his connection to the Kennedy Dynasty. Compared to California Governor Gray Davis, American born, whom thirty-six years ago rolled in beach sand and moonlighted kisses with Cybil "Maddie Hayes" Sheppard. If we, the born Americans were all trained in math to be highly efficient with the rest of the World, there will be no economic budget crisis, less suicides, wealth in the land, and less frivolous governmental spending on IKEA furniture from Washington D.C. to the White House.
Though I myself am not able to handle the balancing of governmental accounts assets, which will involve millions of dollars, I too can be overwhelmed and say, Well I'll let the government take care of it, they can figure it out.
Well, that's what one accountant did and that is why the senate is spending money the accountant stashed away because he or she had no time to deal with it. As a result, new furniture from Ikea and Apple computer monitors get expedited to the White House. Later Arnold gets elected from the total recall vote, fixes up the economic deficit with his honed math skills and Swiss accounts, his face gets engraved on fifty cent coins, taxes are refurbished, exercise tapes on health and beauty are distributed to each household along with pumping iron pills, and we are at world peace all over again.
Thank you God. Arnold is here to save the world from economic destruction and I am running out of lottery money, badly.
Please support the Felicia Floresca Organization of the Economically Deprived at 1600 Pennsylvania Washington D.C.
Assign it in attention to the accountant in charge of the Bush weaponry fund.
Money orders only please and send it through Federal Express, overnight delivery.
|10 Aug 2003||camp gordon||Mouchette, when u say, '*bisou*', do u mean ur a bisouxual?|
|10 Aug 2003||jesse||go tanning until your sunburn blisters and get melanoma when you're 45. a very subtle idea for of suicide that will pass as a death by natural causes so you can be buried next to your mother.|
|05 Aug 2003||Lucy Cortina||Wow Mouchette, 2 holidays. Who is paying for the babe-filled trips to Barbados? I expect you have a day-job as a pornstar or something.
Meanwhile, for Lucy, it was one of those nights.
I had invited my bezzie mate Felicia over for a girly evening, so she hoisted her hefty new bosoms over to my place. It was a bit of a a squeeze getting her through the door, but we managed.
We had the Doritos out and Pachamama wine. In approx 40 minutes time we would be as trollied as skunks and doing dares involving root vegetables.
"Look at my new bag!!!" trilled Felicia. I stared at it. It was sort of pink and frilly, with a leather strap.
"What about it?" I said, which was when Felicia grabbed my head and shoved my nose right into the bag. After regaining my composure, I stared at the bag for a long time, as I knew that you have to let Felicia have her way or she gets a bit ratty and can steal your underwear.
So I kept staring at the pink bag.
It looked like a lesbian overnight bag.
Uh oh, I had thought too soon. At that moment, Felicia said "I love you Lucy!!! I love you!" and tried to kiss me.
I managed to fend her off with a french baguette in the end (french men make very nice baguettes, as Mouchette should well know).
Once she was out of my front door, she started making a fuss out in the street, but people probably dismissed her as a drunk coming home from a heavy night at the corner pub. She kept yelling and yelling in the street, asking me to look outside or open a window for her.
But nothing in the world would make me open my glistening curtains to her.
The moral? Lucy doesn't do lesbianism.
|05 Aug 2003||Sonora||Why talking about suicide? Life is cool. It's awesome. I am very lucky to be living. My whole family died because of Pol Pot, the Khmer dictator, and somehow I got to live and come to America. I got another chance. I am very lucky and happy. So life should be a blessing, not a curse. Its only a curse if you treat it like one.|
|04 Aug 2003||Chris||So I hear that you are on holiday dear Mouchette. That's wonderful and I want to congratulate you about it! I know that life remains suicidal but at least you can escape from the boring day to day suicidal stuff and maybe relax and forget a little...
When did we in Western Europe become such wimpy scaredy cats? Every time I open a newspaper or switch on the TV I am confronted by images of deserted departure lounges at most airports and miles of empty beaches in all of our favourite holiday haunts. I can't say that these are not things that I have not wished for in the past, but not for the reason that people are terrified of going away since September 11th 2001. We should be ashamed of ourselves (this does not go for you people who would gladly go on a plane and let it crash into some building killing you and thousands of others!), especially when we consider what past generations endured to secure the freedom to come and go as we please. Personally I refuse to be terrorised out of my holidays and if anything I want to travel more than ever before. In fact I never really harboured any deep yearning to visit the USA but I would jet off to New York City without any hesitation (given the cash and the opportunity of course) even though they have just banned smoking throughout the whole city! Come on, ask yourself this question: Where would we all be now if sixty years ago everyone decided that the world was just too scary and decided to stay in the cellar for five years? Probably we would have ended up with no computers and no Mouchette (God forbid!) If you get the chance to take a look at a newspaper from between 1939 and 1945, you will be amazed at how much 'normal' activity was going while the whole world was at war-movies, dances, prize days, garden parties and yes, even holidays were all still part of people's lives, so why should a few fanatics be allowed to make us all cower at home now, more than half a century later?
Sadly the media plays the greatest role in instilling so much fear. We now get to see everything live in our living rooms, but only what the broadcasters choose to show us. For instance SARS. Yes, I know a new disease should be a worry but try to get it into some sort of perspective. This is something that has killed a few hundred people world-wide, which doesn't really qualify it as the plague, but if you believe what you read and see on TV, then you would be forgiven for thinking that the end is nigh. The fact that people are terrified of it is entirely due to the fact that someone has decided that we should be. Compare the SARS outbreak with the fact that 3,000 children die in Africa every day from malaria, something that we do have a cure for but not the will to do anything about, and all governments should commit suicide or be killed for not doing anything (take note Mr.Bush, Blair, Chirac, etc), and you should get some idea of how scared you should really be! The sad fact is that the mortality of African kids doesn't make such dramatic TV pictures as people going to work in surgical masks. Let's take reasonable precautions by all means, but don't let terrorists and TV rob us of our feedom and sense of adventure!
So congratulations again Mouchette for having the guts to go on holiday! And for the rest, just go for it! Being on this site means that you are all suicidal, so go on holiday to forget your troubles at least for a short time and you never know, luckily a terrorist might board the plane killing you and a lot of others (if the terrorist isn't yourself after all!)...
See ya on a plane, hopefully with mask on face and gun in hand...
|02 Aug 2003||Socialistic, moralistic, non-imperalistic friend||Move to Sweden you all.
Here are almost no biggots, racists, homophobes or such. Instead the majority are nice people who respect each other. Come here and you won't feel alone anymore. It's called Socialism (no not Communism for all you parents who read this). For all I know USA is just one big imperalistic race track where the good guys finish last and the successful, good looking, smart, rich, inventive etc. get everything they want.
Although Sweden is a small country, we are ranked #4 on the world's best countries to live in, presented by the UN. Our neighbor Norway ranks #1, the UK #15 and US #6. It's strange. When I visited New York 2000 I saw people begging in the streets. Uhm, people had to beg in the streets in order to live? Where the hell was I... Hell?
A man tossed a coin in the face of a beggar - who was black by the way. As I picked up the coin and put it in the poor mans hand, he looked me in the eyes and said: "thanks brother".
Yeah, I know, I'm being a stupid moralist, but listen: No man nor woman in Sweden has to beg for cash on some lousy street where people pass by, not caring whether the person lives or dies. The reason for this is not that everyone in Sweden is born rich. Instead high taxes (highest in the world) are used in order to give every citizen a decent life. Among many things we have public health care, just like Canada.
So people live on contributions in your country you say? What a bunch of lazy slobs, what have they ever made for your country? This is where tolerance enters the picture. It's not easy to stick to, since you have to make sacrifices yourself, but it's humane.
There are those in Sweden who wish a more capitalistic state. They can present many good arguments about why we need to remove the public (gov.) sector and make room for the private sector. Arguments that leave room for GREAT economics (for some people), but no mercy for the ones who are retarded, lazy, poor, lazy, poor, lazy, stupid, retarded, homo, on the edge of society, poor or suicidal for that matter. They say everyone will gain profit from a privatized community. Is that so? Well, compared to Communism, in which everyone has to live on the same low level it sure is great... for some people.
How about a land where everything is equally good for everyone? A land without prejudices? Nah, that won't happen in a long time. But I feel we're well on the way here though.
From the middle of the 19th century to the beginning of the early 20th, Swedes immigrated to America seeking better lives for themselves.
Now I say: immigrate back to Sweden! Or even better: fight for justice and equal rights where you live. It's your call.
Me, a guy who your parents doubtlessly will call a red f****** commie scum and condemn to burn forever in Hell.
|26 Jul 2003||bloodymary||Hello. My name is Mary, and I am dead. I have been dead for two hundred and twenty years. One day, i was wishing that i would die, just to see what people would think. But... I got my wish. Later on that night, i was killed by a horrible monster, and now, that monster is my husband. The devil killed me, and if you do what I did, he will get you too. Best wishes to you and your suicide.|
|20 Jul 2003||Lucy Cortina||Ooh Mouchette you wicked boy. Sneaking off on one of your dollybird filled naughty holidays eh?
Remember when you see a lady walking along the beach wearing a pink bra with the hugest breasts you have ever seen, remember that it is...
|14 Jul 2003||Chris||I'm back! You thought that I commited suicicide, I didn't! I don't know why but I'm still alive. Last time I wrote something for my friends at Mouchette was at sometime in April! Oh what a long time. I tried to live without Mouchette and without thinking about suicide but I ended up here again and in these hot summer months suicide is very much almost at the top of the agenda!
Summer is really with us again and along with all of the excellent things that the long hot months bring such as barbecues, beers by the beach, busy bars and restaurants and long drinks during the long hot evenings, come the usual (for me anyway) disastrous things. What do I mean? Well, for instance, every year I buy a new pair of swimming shorts and every year I look less like like the guy in the brochure illustrating them. It doesn't matter what I do I can't make my legs look good in a pair of shorts. Which leads me to the next problem...
A suntan! For some reason unknown to the modern scientific world my body refuses to tan, I just turn a vivid, ugly pink then go back to my normal sickly pallor. Every summer I have arguments with sexy girls about the fact that I try to spend at least several hours in the sun at the weekend in my vain attempt to get a healthy colour, while ten minutes at the beach is about their limit. They turn a gorgerous golden brown while I remain a patchwork of varying shades of pink. Which leads me to my next problem...
Tummies! Everyone is obsessed by their stomach during the summer, I for one have now practically perfected the art of speaking while sucking in my belly button till it almost meets my spine, so if you encounter a little guy at the beach who looks as if he is critically constipated and is speaking in short gasps, don't worry, it's only me trying to pretend that I am Brad Pitt!
To make matters worse and even summer (where I should be enjoying my holidays) more suicidal I have to put up with the regular beach perverts and freaks. Where do these guys go for the winter months? Wherever it is they are back again every June through October gracing our beaches with their antics. You know the chaps I mean, they are to be found not more than two metres away from any attractive female on the beach (under eighty and in possession of a pulse qualifies as attractive in their book apparently) staring fixedly at her while practising their juggling under their towel, at least that's what it looks like they are up to anyweay! And can anyone tell me why it is that in these times of gender equality women don't behave like this when they see young men at the beach? I've certainly never been pestered but I imagine my ugly pink legs sticking out of the baggy shorts, my hopeless suntan and my growing tummy are explanation enough for that lack of attention.
I come up with only two real solutions. The first one is suicide! The second is, (now that I've heard from Felicia that Lucy has become a surgeon), surgery, you know, just take away some fat, create some built up body and somehow some sexy tan. The last idea (which is not a solution at all) is like Kurt Cobain said "I am ugly but (at least) so are you"
P.S I cannot give an e-mail address right now because of some problems.
See you all in hell, at a surgeon or disgustingly on the beach!