|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?
|23 Mar 2003||Felicia - Your Guardian Angel in Disquise||My offered suggestion. The world is a mess. The only way you can get out of this deep blue funk is by breathing. I see and hear people saying that committing suicide is stupid and they never tell you why. Committing suicide is too much of an easy way out. It's about as simple as opening a can of soda and drinking it. When people ask how they should kill themselves, it is because they are afraid to even attempt it. I can offer all the solutions in how one can kill themselves and offer imaginative ideas in how you can do it in a "dramatic way". But that would defeat my purpose in helping you. You know, I was walking one morning on an unpaved sidewalk in a city we always call "the place that Frank left his heart at" and happened to look at the Golden Gate Bridge. San Francisco is the place I call home and I have many friends here. Though I am not homosexual, I have many homosexual friends and love all of them. I was talking to my friend Jimmy one day and he told me that I lacked common sense. I said, "Why?" Well, he said my place is a mess and it looked like shit, my home life is in shambles, my family sucks, and my Iguana is always starving. One day, I wanted to kill myself because I felt like it. Then I went to the search engine and found this website. Then I read about Lucy Cortina and Billy the Freak's conversations, back and fourth, and it made me feel much better. Though I think Lucy Cortina may think that I have a few screws loose and she lost all respect for me, doesn't mean I can't look at her talented chats back and fourth with cool famous people with her momentous episodes of boob jokes. I laughed my ass off and said, "Gee, life is pleasant after all! So you see, committing suicide is not fun. My friend, my young one, my old one, age doesn't matter, I feel your pain. If you can find one thing that makes you happy, go for it. Because you missed out on many things and people bring you down, doesn't mean you should end your life. It's sad to say that it will not bring someone close to you or love you more. You would just be a statistic. My suggestion is this, try something that you never attempted doing by taking a plane to a different town or country and see the world. If you can't afford it, save for it. I know that running away from your problems never helps, but taking a trip to see other countries or cities never hurt. Then explore what it would be like in a place that you never experienced before. My friend, life is full of new experiences. Look how beautiful it is in the sky at night and look out at the stars. Make a wish on every shooting one, and believe that wish. Its when you dont believe that you often fail. Wish yourself out of this deep blue funk and write the wildest things that you want to do. Buy a journal and write your dreams down. Do it as a favor for me? Please?
And by the way, dont let the state of the world get you down. Dont even think of it, just think of you for a change and relax. And first start with breathing better and treating yourself to a nice cool glass of ice water. Please! Dont drown yourself! Because you will not be breathing!!! Purchase a set of headphones and listen to your favorite songs. The world around you can be put on hold for just a moment and remember try not to analyze it so much. Just relax.
|23 Mar 2003||Felicia||My definition of W A R is quite simple. I think of it as two spoiled little boys fighting over ownership of an expensive toy gun. Both parents of the boys hate each other. Neither party likes each other nor they both make a mountain out of a molehill. Hatred becomes the conclusion of the situation. Big WARS like the ones we face now all derive from the mentality. Jealous and spoiled grown up boys trying to conquer the world creating dissension for everyone and peddling each others governmental assets on missiles and military equipment, rather than helping the unfortunate starving economy and unstructured businesses rebuild. With all the useless spending spent on shells I would have bought a mansion and a yacht, along with a Porsche Boxter. Useless spending? No wasted time, unnecessary loss of lives, and less mansions with yachts.
Bombs or mansions? Take your pick. Gosh?! I would have had great boob surgery by now and had a reservation table at Lizas party. Opps! Forgot, she cancelled out because of the war fiasco darn!
|21 Mar 2003||Mary-Annette Mackellar||SO DAMN INSANE.
Some of us are weak, and some endure.
Some people live their lives with a violence that is pure and clean. But i saw a man cry once, down on his knees, in a corner of a darkening cell, and his pain meant nothing to me. But i was younger then, and young men never cry. When i walked out in the sun i was strong, clear-minded and Blind.
Remove my hand from your pocket. Pluck my eye from your socket. i am your secret sharer. Bleeding beneath your covers. Show me the texture of your pregnant tongue. Prepare my mind with abortion. Drown me with rose scented honey-milk. Configure my soul with your voice of silk. Why am i so cruel? Why do i Love you? Why are you so beautiful? ...Because you are cruel. ~m.gira
|18 Mar 2003||Lucy Cortina||What if I decide to rent my boobs, Danny?
I was faxed earlier today from Sadham Insane requesting the purchase of atomic weapons. He needs them as protection. I hope agent Billy succeeds soon. My mind is all cofuzzled as to what to do.
To rent, or not to rent, that is the question.
Although, didn't they say Shakespare was gay? Damn, that cancels out asking him for breastial advice.
Meanwhile I've been observing movements within Buckingham palace. Prince Charles' aide has resigned following an internal probe. He used to perform duties such as squeezing the prince's toothpase onto a brush for him.
I asked Charles if he could add further to the situation.
He's unavailable for comment.
Because he's stuck on the toilet, waiting for someone to come and wipe his ass.
|15 Mar 2003||Danny Keaton||..continued...
we have our top agent, Billy, disguised as Tony Blair, carefully working his homosexual charms on BUSH (which is not as easy as it may sound). Well, he's been stuck up BUSH's arse for long enough now, anyway.
Daniel Keaton of the SSSS, the biggest branch of Infostream.Inc.
|15 Mar 2003||Danny Keaton||Dr Kildare, Lucy, is currently busy on an important project.
Our Infostream scientist, known as Herbert Egg, has been developing and refining his new invention the "boob-bomb" (not to be confused with the "Sex-bomb"). Undoubtedly YOU, Lucy, will be first in line to test out this wonderful, er, accessory.
Herbert had the gruelling task of placing boob-bomb bras on the chests of our model agents, and so your problem was overlooked, Lucy.
But never fear - we shall send someone as soon as we can. Your breasts are Infostream's biggest "assets" to the agency in all my 26 years of being an SSSS agent. They will be saved, like Iraq, you can count on that. Well, unless of course our arch-nemesis "BUSH" cannot be stopped.
|15 Mar 2003||Felicia||The candle light setting was romantic. The lighting in the restaurant was extremely cozy as the melodic tunes of "Alfie" played on the Steinway piano. There was "Mr. Blue Eyes" looking straight at me. His eyes were the bluest of bluest. That night, the food tasted exquisitely delicious. My choice of Alfredo Fettucini had a slight taste of the best creamy cheese in the world made from the freshest ingredients (no commercial pun intended). The olive oil served with the bread was absolutely, positively delicious! The picked portabella mushrooms served with a hint of endives was a compliment in the meal itself. For dessert, the Tiramisu and the espresso coffee was the icing on the cake. Staring at "Mr. Blue Eyes" was more exciting. Reese, finally popped the bottle of Champagne as the moon hit my eye like a big pizza pie. "Oops!" He said. "I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking!" Gently cupping the left side of my eye, Reese (Mr. Blue Eyes) spoke to me in calm-like fashion, and wrapped the champagne ice from the bucket, in the red linen cloth, and covered my left eye. An hour later after the incident, we slowed dance to the soft piano music playing. Dancing next to us was a handsome couple who had years behind them. The night was young, and the moon was full. The stars winked brightly in the night sky.
It made me think that at 14, I was glad that I didn't swallow those iron pills.
-Not the end-
|14 Mar 2003||Lucy Cortina||Well Danny, what can I say? My bra is certainly so big that you could string it all around the streets of Rome. I've faxed Mission Control about the alarming growth rate of my boobs, but they ignore the issue - they refused to send Dr. Kildare to inspect my problem.
As for Mission Vixy, well, when the vicars see my huge inflatables tumbling down the hill, they will think it's the second coming of Jesus and flee.
Jesus never did approve of nakedness. As we all know...
|14 Mar 2003||Marius Mackellar||PAPIER TUE-MOUCHE$
Exordiumatically, deponent precateth otity orient exaudient,
dole basilical's assumpt.
Pragmatics, ex Ventro Genesiaco ad umbilicum Apocalypticum,
determinated logomachoepy's nodal puncts,
Ergmoiraetic, apert parthenorhododactylical,
To tear my youth with desperate knives,
to wear this paltry soul's demise
What few upon this plain dare see;
the Inhumane in Humanity
Such silence here my Sadness feeds
upon the needs of an Artless breed.
|13 Mar 2003||Danny Keaton||Lucy, Madame, you are going the right way about getting a smacked bottom, and you well know it. Mission control will not tolerate anymore panty twitching - you've had your fun.
If your latest naked-vicar-UK mission does not end successfully, you will be stringed up from the streets of Rome by your bra, be sure of that.
Daniel Keaton of Super Secret Spy Sex.
|13 Mar 2003||Lucy Cortina||Danny,
the stuffed olive suit no longer exists. Oil breaks down the rubber, like condoms, everyone knows that. Tell mission control that I want a pay rise and extended leave immediately! I've been stuck in this rotten suicidal dump for long enough!
Oh, and a new bra wouldn't go amiss...
Lucy Cortina, Agent 00 oh oh! of the SSSS.
|12 Mar 2003||Felicia||"Political Fries"
There I was at a burger joint, eating a vegetarian burger. I told the counter lady, "May I have a side of french fries with that?" She said, "What fries?" and I again said "French fries!" The clerk said, "We don't serve french fries anymore. Would you like to buy a bag of chips instead?" I said, "Alright." After ringing up my order on the register, the clerk gave me my receipt and I went my merry way to the table. Opening the bag and grabbing the first chip, I found that it was very stale. Later, I nibbled on my vegetarian burger and later took a sniff of the air. Suddently, a loud frying sound permeated my ears at a sound, whatever the decible it was, I can hear it. It was the sound of french fries being fried. I saw a young couple ordering burgers with a side of french fries. Infuriated and mad, I got up to the counter and asked the clerk again, "I thought you were not serving french fries?!!' "We are not", the clerk said with an irritating voice. I said, "Listen, I see that couple with a side of fries with their burgers." The clerk said, "Oh! You want fries with your burger! Why didn't you tell me?" In bite back mode I said, "Lady, all my life they always called those fried potatoe thingies 'french fries'." Do you understand?" The clerk said, "Maam, we don't call those french fries, we call them 'Freedom Fries'. That was the end of it. I ran out of Cubbie's restauraunt all mad. It was bad enough that the U.S. wants to take the French out of the fries, and I keep wondering why I voted for President Bush. I thought he would change it to where the Europeans and the U.S. citizens would collaborate and now it seems the French will be left out of it. Gawd forbid!
The next day I went to McDonalds to order a cheeseburger. The McDonalds clerk politely said, "Would you like a side of french fries with that?"
It's not the end yet. Armageddon begins.
|12 Mar 2003||Danny Keaton||RE: Lucy Cortina's "stuffed-olive" party escapade-
The stuffed olive suit was made for purposes of super sexy secret spy missions, not one of your fancy man filled cocktail parties. Mission control wants a word with you once you've sobered up.
Daniel Keaton of SSSS.
|11 Mar 2003||Felicia||People will think you're insane when you reveal too much information. You know, the ole' (TMI) appoach. It makes one realize that if words were chosen wisely, then people will like you. In a cut throat world such as this it makes you wonder what purpose do you have here? Is it to wallow in misery to get by through the day or are you living a life just to exist? I see people in television have so much to do. Check out the Babes at Baywatch, and the only thing you see mainly is just "tits" and "ass". You see teenagers girls swiping cellphones, wearing scantily Britney Spears clothing with friends, young boys dress up in grunge, with baggy clothing, while observing adults peering down through grocery aisles with this ear piece stuck in their ear just to look cool and chatting about nothing in particular to waste their air time minutes.Then you're on the road on a workday morning and have to wait for the lane to clear as soon as the meter lights change from red to green, green to red, in a span of 6 seconds. And you see people on cell phones driving, while not paying attention to the road. Then the workday starts when you begin a presentation project and manage a whole bunch of water cooler loafers sticking around the coffee break room, talking about "American Idol" and what's up with Howard Stern. Then you advise these people to get back to their units to begin their projects, getting dirty stares, and you wonder sometimes why we are having a downturn of the economy. It's lazy workers I bet? Using company resources by taking office supplies, having expensive office parties for no reason, and coffee bags coming from the friendly neighbourhood Starbucks. At the end of the workday, you drive home and find that your car is running low on gas, and the only option is to run on fumes. Then you find that the nearest gas station and see that the gas rates are $2.19 to almost $3.00 per gallon for regular. In Europle, gosh... I can just imagine! Then you wonder why some people would like to kill themselves because they can't handle the world. It's when you have too much time, or too little in their hands and wonder when depression kicks in. Kids, living with parents is never easy. Living with siblings is never easy either. Then you see "The Osbornes" and see their rich and spoiled pets and children, and go to "Special Features" on their dvd then play a game of "Doggie Dookie". Heaven forbid. That's it! Don't kill yourself because you have way too much or too little time on your hands. If people don't like you and don't agree, why do it to satisfy them? The only way that you can survive in this world is to do things on your own and not depending on others to take care of things for you. As for me, I am beginning today by just shutting off the television set and putting the daily news in the recycle bin. Two things that I did to contribute to this world. Shut off the electricity, work on a battery operated laptop, and recycling. There I just saved the planet. Don't have a hole for a burial plot, because it cost way too much money for the people you care about. And don't worry about me, I am on lunch break and it is now 12:38pm Eastern Standard time. Using my own laptop, my own batteries, and my own portable dsl telephone line.|
|10 Mar 2003||Thom Yorke||_PLAYDEAD_ ~Help is on its way/i'm lost in space/no protection
Please/come and rescue me/i've got no friends/i'm an orphan...
who only has Faith to betray.
One Kiss from Krisha could blow me away??
|10 Mar 2003||nomeD cilegnA||THE GREATEST STRESS ~How, if some night or day a Demon were to crawl after you into your lowest loneliness and say to you, "This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything immeasurably small or great in your life must return to you... All in the same succession and sequence, even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The Eternal hourglass of existence is turned over and over, and you with it, a dust grain of dust." ...Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the Demon who spoke thus?? Or did you once experience a tremendous moment when you would have answered him, "You are a God, and never have i heard anything more Godly." If this thought were to gain possession of you, it would change you as you are, or perhaps crush you. The question in each and every thing, "Do you want this once more and innumerable times more?" would weigh upon your actions as the greatest stress. Or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to Life... to crave nothing more fervently than this ultimate eternal confirmation and seal????
|10 Mar 2003||Lucy Cortina||In not-so-secret code to agent Danny:
have saved the world again.
I am pleased to report that a vicar has been discovered tied to a lampost wearing only boxer shorts. This was during a dawn raid in an attempt to infiltrate the higly secret naked-vicar-cult-UK. This is a cult of practising vicars and similar holy men, who join hands once a month at undisclosed locations in the UK to dance naked around a camp fire at midnight.
We have yet to find them... but don't worry, agent Lucy will infiltrate the.. er "ring".
I fancy a bit of naked dancing...
Lucy Cortina, agent oo oh oh! of Super Secret Spy Sex (SSSS)
|09 Mar 2003||Felicia||Apologies to Lucy Cortina:
I started looking at my small specks. The jealousy of trying to compete with Lucy was utterly sad. Now she is mad at me. I always felt like the Jan Brady and she was the Marsha. "Marsha! Marsha! Marsha!" I screamed out in my head, but it was useless. To find solace, I had to seek the box of water-bras that Lucy gave me for Christmas. In the card, it read "with caring thoughts, Lucy". A tear streak fell out of the corner of my eye because I discovered jealousy can bring such an ugly face. I couldn't help that night when Lucy went out with a Knight, at the Royal French Palace in Paris. Lucy was stunningly beautiful with the crowd and showed such grace and poise. Then a Knight by the name of McKellar, took her sequined satin, precious diamond studded, gloved hand on to the dance floor. There I stood, amoungst the crowd as everybody gazed at the handsome couple. There was Billy staring at the handsome pair with his ear to ear grin. I tugged at Billy's coat tail but he failed to recognize me. I said, "Billy...Billy...Billy!" as crowds roared and cheered to the sway of the music. Still, he never heard me. Disgruntled, I took off, far from site to the back of the Palace and gazed at the moon from the balcony. The beautiful music played into the night. Then I started to cry like I never did before. It seemed I lost a sister and a friend, because of a joke I wrote in the post editorial one day. It suddenly was published and Lucy read it. Her shock was more than shock, so she shook with horror when I came to visit for tea at the Palace one morning. She yelled at me and said, "Felicia! Young lady, do you work for a tabloid?" I said, "No." "Well, then don't write anything about anybody if it isn't nice to say!" I said, "I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!" To be told that I was like a reporter or the paparazzi was bad enough. I felt like the telemarketer of the media. I ran from the Palace to cool off and gather some thoughts. A few days later, I wheel barreled a crate filled with petals and daisies. I lay them on the ground in front of the palace so Lucy and her Knight and shining armor can see that I placed them in caring words a mile long. It read, "I'm sorry Lucy Cortina for the miserable things I've said and please forgive me." I am standing by the castle right now. But neither Lucy or her Knight read it because they have been busy for a long time. It's taking days.
The clock keeps ticking. The story continues.
|09 Mar 2003||Danny Keaton||Infostream inc. has been watching this board for some time and has finally got some answers to the death of our Directer, Fred E. Catt, or ol' Fred as he was known to friends. He was indeed killed in hospital, his oxygen hose cut off. With the information given by you, we now know it was indeed Spencer C. Bad, the priest, that had killed him. Lucy Cortina, our inside agent has tracked the movements of Spencer and has found that it is none other than... Jeanie. The guilt had built up so much in Jeanie that she HAD to tell someone, thinking she could pass off her wicked act as humor, so no one would notice. Thanks to Lucy here, Jeanie can finally be stopped, before she kills off more of the infostream staff.
Yours truely, Daniel Keaton of SSSS.
|08 Mar 2003||Auron Mackellar||SYMPARANECROMENIAN FAVORITES. VOL. 81 ~SCHONE KUNSTE~
...Suppose there were 2 artists, and one said, "i have journeyed much and seen plenty in this world, but i have sought in vain to find a man worth painting. I have found no face with such perfection of Beauty that i could make up my mind to paint it. In every face i have caught one or another little fault. Therefore i seek in vain." ...Would this indicate that this artist was a great artist? On the other hand, the second one said, "Well, i do not pretend to be an actual artist; neither have i journeyed to foreign lands. But remaining in the little circle of women who are closest to me, i have not found a face so insignificant or so leaden with flaws that i still could not discern in it a more Beautiful side and discover something glorious. Therefore i am happy in the art i practice. It satisfies me without my making any claim to Being an artist." ...Would this not indicate that precisely this one was the artist, one who bringing a certain something with her found then and there what the much travelled artist did not find anywhere in this world, perhaps because he did not bring that certain something with him!
Consequently, the second of the 2 was the artist.
~Would it not be sad, too, if what is intended to Beautify life could only be a curse upon it, so that Art, instead of making life Beautiful for us, only fastidiously discovers that not one of us is Beautiful. Would it not be sadder still, and still more confusing, if Love also should only be a curse because its demand could only make it evident that none of us is worth Loving, instead of Love's being recognized precisely by its loving enough to be able to find some lovableness within all of us, consequently Loving enough to be readily able to Love us all...?