What is the best way to commit suicide when you're under 13?

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

Nom/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?

11 Feb 2003 Michael Mackellar i used to have the WORST job in the world. Just imagine the most unbearably apathetic sort of situation which could ever befall a Being... and you'll catch a glimpse of what i went through. i sincerely HATE to think that others are subjected to such circumstances and that they are not even aware of it. Take certain trial-lawyers for instance, they'll sue MacDonald's over some focking bloke choking on a chicken macnugget, yet they don't have the balls to sue THE DEGENERATE (the man) for falsely sentencing someone to Death.

11 Feb 2003 Michael Mackellar [insoc] DON'T BE AFRAID... ~the holy girl is in our focus she's the story of us all. she can feel our eyes upon her and the hope that she shall fall. on her left so warm and honey-sweet like a jealous loving friend. on her right such a steep cold and lonely climb. the clinging threat of rejection and the thought of her imperfection. she says she's nowhere near the end yet. still she makes no guarantees. she's comfortable with failure and her blood may one day freeze. and in her iodine stretch her eyes recede and fall away. she knows she's where nothing can reach her now. beyond where you can see. beyond where she wants to be. one day she was a child. she could touch the sun somehow. she was held in the arms of the galaxy and that child is with her now. and in her cobalt moments she'll know that she's afraid. her hands reach out and grasp at you. but she's falling further... falling further in the churning dark slide. now she's walking slowly onward through the garden you can't know. her dance so beautiful and twisted. a spinning madness in the snow. she's got a black-hole in there with her. she's got a sun down in there too. they're her partners in her eternal dance. she's not aware of time moving past her. she's not aware of getting any younger. she walks the ridge so glassy sharp. you can't find her now. you can't speak to her now... she'll never cry again. ~Kurt Harland

10 Feb 2003 A Ridiculous Man Eclipse 0 ~Round the globe the train of dust/ round the globe the dust of mirages/ the shadow on the globe turns black/ the globe in the shadows of lost days./ The emerald sky has stretched out/ over the planet of maddened shadows/ towers have thrust their voice into the heavens/ and exploded within a chaos of decline./ The chain swings on the wall/ as a pendulum of an antique clock/ and i cry here in my mad fire/ of voices half-sane as the day. [ump] ~In the humpbacked Arbat streets/ an alien man got lost/ much seems to him to be strange/ in the noisy autumn peoplessness./ The street lamps and shop windows in a torrent/ of rusty light splash in the dark/ and the windows of peoople's thoughts, of beasts/ look at the autumn night./ Noisy crowds rush past/ in the howling of the cold wind/ and the desert of the autumn peoplessness/ is bloodsucked with the hubbub of greed./ In the humpbacked backstreets of the Arbat/ an alien man got lost/ he is like a beast captive in a bestiary/ and does not find the way out of the cage./ On the gloomy horizon of the cell/ no hope of the star's shining/ only a sun yellow like sardines/ and the dull waiting... when?/ Waiting surrounded the cell/ like a ghost of dead minutes/ it's those years of pains and distances/ i sleep in delerium i awake in delerium./ On the gloomy horizon of the cell/ no hope of the stars leaving a trail/ unhappiness menacingly rules in the walls/ with a station change for the other world or this world./ This cell- the delirium of my fantasy/ if i am a ghost among people/ this cell is a door to the expanse of the End/ the voices and wishes of the people. [unknown mental patient]

09 Feb 2003 swallow razorblades, watch yourself bleed. take pictures, send 'em to me.

08 Feb 2003 bubba listen to modern day rolling stones. The time it takes u to find the urge to take your own live depends on your personality.

07 Feb 2003 ~~Tootles~~ Eat 105 pies and then run 8 blocks. by the time you get done with 4 you should have already had a heart attack. if not keep running

06 Feb 2003 thorsten there's nothing complicated! just having petrole, not hard to find in the car of daddy, then you switch on your lighter It's very the best way!

06 Feb 2003 Anti Climaxicus Imagine a country. A royal command is issued to all the office-bearers and subjects, in short, to the entire population. An unutterably remarkable change comes over them all: they all become interpreters, the office-bearers become authors, every blessed day there comes out an interpretation more learned than the last, more acute, more elegant, more profound, more ingenious, more wonderful, more endearing, and more wonderfully endearing. HelloKelly. Criticism which ought to survey the whole can hardly attain survey of this prodigious literature, indeed criticism itself has become a literature so prolix that is impossible to attain a survey of the criticism. Everything became interpretation... but no one read the royal command with a view to acting in accordance with it. And it was not only that everything became interpretation, but at the same time the point of view for determining what seriousness is was altered, and to be busy about interpretation became real seriousness. Suppose that the Queen was not a human Queen- for the human Queen would understand well enough that they were making a fool of Her by giving the affair this turn, yet as a human Queen She is dependent, especially when She encounters the united front of office-bearers and subjects, and so would be compelled to put the best face upon a bad game, to let seem as if all this were a matter of course, so that the most elegant interpreter would be rewarded by elevation to the peerage, the most acute would be knighted, etc. Suppose that this Queen was almighty, one therefore who is not put to embarrassment though all the office-bearers and all the subjects play Her false. What do you suppose this almighty Queen would think about such a thing?? Surely She would say, "The fact that they do not comply with the commandment, that i might forgive; moreover, if they united in a petition that i may have patience with them, or perhaps relieve them entirely of this commandment which seemed to them too hard... even that i could forgive. But this i cannot forgive, that they entirely alter the point of view for determing what seriousness is." ~Judge William

03 Feb 2003 ginger if i'm under 13 maybe the best way would be by stop breathing under the water, the kit must have heavy parts so so the idea to keep on breathing would be imposible

02 Feb 2003 Ichabod Doldrumsky ADMIRATIO. There is, unfortunately, nothing to be done with the age before it experiences far deeper convulsions. The whole age can be divided into those who write and those who do not write. Those who write represent despair, and those who read disapprove of it and believe that they have a superior wisdom. ...And yet, if they could write, they would write the same thing. Basically, they are all equally despairing, but when one does not have the opportunity to become important with her despair, then it is hardly worth the trouble to despair and show it. Is this what it is to have conquered despair? ~To despair over oneself, in despair not to will to be oneself, in despair to will to be rid of oneself, in despair to will to devour oneself is the formula for all despair, to which also the other form of despair... in despair to will to be oneself, can be traced back, just as above, in the despair not to will to be oneself, to will to be rid of oneself, is traced back to: in despair to will to Become oneself. ~??

02 Feb 2003 wanka die tur ist zu = the door is closed.

02 Feb 2003 sarah Go to a pedophile's house then deny him sex

31 Jan 2003 Michael Mackellar ECLIPSE2. i will take nails and hammer them into my body. Very, very gently... Very, very slowly... so it will last longer. i will draw up a precise plan. i will upholster myself everyday, say 2 inches for instance. Then. i will set fire to everything. It will burn for a long time. It will burn for 7 days. Only the nails will remain, all welded together and rusty. So i shall remain. So i shall survive. Everything. ~Tomaz Salaman

29 Jan 2003 Michael Mackellar ...And so, i am not the one who is to become lord of this life, but simply a frail thread to be spun upon the calico of History. So, i am no god. Well, then, at least i can cut a thread. ~Yes. Time. i sense it comes down to discovering which Muzik becomes the most... beautiful within the throes of your own mind. And then, devoting as much time as life permits for the undying cultivation of Understanding the Truth in Beauty. Time has taught me very well that keeping my discoveries inside is undoubtedly prudent... As i often try and share these discoveries with outside others, only to be told that my musical tastes tend to be a touch inept. Yet, as i addictively strive to subject myself towards the company, and often interaction, of abusive others, i Fear i shall never rise above from the childishness of Sharing.

29 Jan 2003 Ndrew Just slug it out, there are too many other games to play, just let this one slide, it isn't worth its hype, honest!

28 Jan 2003 queermo Suicide Bombers

27 Jan 2003 Marshall Banana Slit your wrists and drown yourself in your own blood.

27 Jan 2003 KC TAKING 5 EXTACY PILLS AT ONCE FOLLOWED BY A BOTTLE OF VODCA...

25 Jan 2003 samWISE I like your breasts, lucy. they look very professional!

22 Jan 2003 Dimitri Mackellar SYMPARANECROMENIAN CATASTROPHES. VOL.-1 The sun is an acid eye/we're corroded with pleasure inside/there's a hole in your thin white skin/now we'll never be clean again/Our hands are two shattered claws/we scrape at the ground for hours/i buried this soul in the floor/to gain control of unfeeling/This city's a crowded room/this earth is a closing tomb/in my hand is your perfect womb/when you breathe your breath is obscene/My heart is a lead box/ideas are shutting locks/the air was just turned off/now we're sucking from this Machine/The sun did not rise today/your children will stay where you lay/the oil is black and it's thick/and sex is a void filled with plastic/The president's mouth is a whore/when there's murder the audience roars/there's no room left here for the strong/and everything Human's necessarily wrong. AMNESIA. ~m.gira

Prev    Much more than this....
   Next
1 2 3 4 5 ... 585 586
Famous users search:
Lucy Cortina   Chris   Mackellar   Felicia   Joe Lee   Billy   Phil   will snow   Enzyme

Read the archives

Date	Name/email Nom/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?
11 Feb 2003	Michael Mackellar	i used to have the WORST job in the world. Just imagine the most unbearably apathetic sort of situation which could ever befall a Being... and you'll catch a glimpse of what i went through. i sincerely HATE to think that others are subjected to such circumstances and that they are not even aware of it. Take certain trial-lawyers for instance, they'll sue MacDonald's over some focking bloke choking on a chicken macnugget, yet they don't have the balls to sue THE DEGENERATE (the man) for falsely sentencing someone to Death.
11 Feb 2003	Michael Mackellar	[insoc] DON'T BE AFRAID... ~the holy girl is in our focus she's the story of us all. she can feel our eyes upon her and the hope that she shall fall. on her left so warm and honey-sweet like a jealous loving friend. on her right such a steep cold and lonely climb. the clinging threat of rejection and the thought of her imperfection. she says she's nowhere near the end yet. still she makes no guarantees. she's comfortable with failure and her blood may one day freeze. and in her iodine stretch her eyes recede and fall away. she knows she's where nothing can reach her now. beyond where you can see. beyond where she wants to be. one day she was a child. she could touch the sun somehow. she was held in the arms of the galaxy and that child is with her now. and in her cobalt moments she'll know that she's afraid. her hands reach out and grasp at you. but she's falling further... falling further in the churning dark slide. now she's walking slowly onward through the garden you can't know. her dance so beautiful and twisted. a spinning madness in the snow. she's got a black-hole in there with her. she's got a sun down in there too. they're her partners in her eternal dance. she's not aware of time moving past her. she's not aware of getting any younger. she walks the ridge so glassy sharp. you can't find her now. you can't speak to her now... she'll never cry again. ~Kurt Harland
10 Feb 2003	A Ridiculous Man	Eclipse 0 ~Round the globe the train of dust/ round the globe the dust of mirages/ the shadow on the globe turns black/ the globe in the shadows of lost days./ The emerald sky has stretched out/ over the planet of maddened shadows/ towers have thrust their voice into the heavens/ and exploded within a chaos of decline./ The chain swings on the wall/ as a pendulum of an antique clock/ and i cry here in my mad fire/ of voices half-sane as the day. [ump] ~In the humpbacked Arbat streets/ an alien man got lost/ much seems to him to be strange/ in the noisy autumn peoplessness./ The street lamps and shop windows in a torrent/ of rusty light splash in the dark/ and the windows of peoople's thoughts, of beasts/ look at the autumn night./ Noisy crowds rush past/ in the howling of the cold wind/ and the desert of the autumn peoplessness/ is bloodsucked with the hubbub of greed./ In the humpbacked backstreets of the Arbat/ an alien man got lost/ he is like a beast captive in a bestiary/ and does not find the way out of the cage./ On the gloomy horizon of the cell/ no hope of the star's shining/ only a sun yellow like sardines/ and the dull waiting... when?/ Waiting surrounded the cell/ like a ghost of dead minutes/ it's those years of pains and distances/ i sleep in delerium i awake in delerium./ On the gloomy horizon of the cell/ no hope of the stars leaving a trail/ unhappiness menacingly rules in the walls/ with a station change for the other world or this world./ This cell- the delirium of my fantasy/ if i am a ghost among people/ this cell is a door to the expanse of the End/ the voices and wishes of the people. [unknown mental patient]
09 Feb 2003		swallow razorblades, watch yourself bleed. take pictures, send 'em to me.
08 Feb 2003	bubba	listen to modern day rolling stones. The time it takes u to find the urge to take your own live depends on your personality.
07 Feb 2003	~~Tootles~~	Eat 105 pies and then run 8 blocks. by the time you get done with 4 you should have already had a heart attack. if not keep running
06 Feb 2003	thorsten	there's nothing complicated! just having petrole, not hard to find in the car of daddy, then you switch on your lighter It's very the best way!
06 Feb 2003	Anti Climaxicus	Imagine a country. A royal command is issued to all the office-bearers and subjects, in short, to the entire population. An unutterably remarkable change comes over them all: they all become interpreters, the office-bearers become authors, every blessed day there comes out an interpretation more learned than the last, more acute, more elegant, more profound, more ingenious, more wonderful, more endearing, and more wonderfully endearing. HelloKelly. Criticism which ought to survey the whole can hardly attain survey of this prodigious literature, indeed criticism itself has become a literature so prolix that is impossible to attain a survey of the criticism. Everything became interpretation... but no one read the royal command with a view to acting in accordance with it. And it was not only that everything became interpretation, but at the same time the point of view for determining what seriousness is was altered, and to be busy about interpretation became real seriousness. Suppose that the Queen was not a human Queen- for the human Queen would understand well enough that they were making a fool of Her by giving the affair this turn, yet as a human Queen She is dependent, especially when She encounters the united front of office-bearers and subjects, and so would be compelled to put the best face upon a bad game, to let seem as if all this were a matter of course, so that the most elegant interpreter would be rewarded by elevation to the peerage, the most acute would be knighted, etc. Suppose that this Queen was almighty, one therefore who is not put to embarrassment though all the office-bearers and all the subjects play Her false. What do you suppose this almighty Queen would think about such a thing?? Surely She would say, "The fact that they do not comply with the commandment, that i might forgive; moreover, if they united in a petition that i may have patience with them, or perhaps relieve them entirely of this commandment which seemed to them too hard... even that i could forgive. But this i cannot forgive, that they entirely alter the point of view for determing what seriousness is." ~Judge William
03 Feb 2003	ginger	if i'm under 13 maybe the best way would be by stop breathing under the water, the kit must have heavy parts so so the idea to keep on breathing would be imposible
02 Feb 2003	Ichabod Doldrumsky	ADMIRATIO. There is, unfortunately, nothing to be done with the age before it experiences far deeper convulsions. The whole age can be divided into those who write and those who do not write. Those who write represent despair, and those who read disapprove of it and believe that they have a superior wisdom. ...And yet, if they could write, they would write the same thing. Basically, they are all equally despairing, but when one does not have the opportunity to become important with her despair, then it is hardly worth the trouble to despair and show it. Is this what it is to have conquered despair? ~To despair over oneself, in despair not to will to be oneself, in despair to will to be rid of oneself, in despair to will to devour oneself is the formula for all despair, to which also the other form of despair... in despair to will to be oneself, can be traced back, just as above, in the despair not to will to be oneself, to will to be rid of oneself, is traced back to: in despair to will to Become oneself. ~??
02 Feb 2003	wanka	die tur ist zu = the door is closed.
02 Feb 2003	sarah	Go to a pedophile's house then deny him sex
31 Jan 2003	Michael Mackellar	ECLIPSE2. i will take nails and hammer them into my body. Very, very gently... Very, very slowly... so it will last longer. i will draw up a precise plan. i will upholster myself everyday, say 2 inches for instance. Then. i will set fire to everything. It will burn for a long time. It will burn for 7 days. Only the nails will remain, all welded together and rusty. So i shall remain. So i shall survive. Everything. ~Tomaz Salaman
29 Jan 2003	Michael Mackellar	...And so, i am not the one who is to become lord of this life, but simply a frail thread to be spun upon the calico of History. So, i am no god. Well, then, at least i can cut a thread. ~Yes. Time. i sense it comes down to discovering which Muzik becomes the most... beautiful within the throes of your own mind. And then, devoting as much time as life permits for the undying cultivation of Understanding the Truth in Beauty. Time has taught me very well that keeping my discoveries inside is undoubtedly prudent... As i often try and share these discoveries with outside others, only to be told that my musical tastes tend to be a touch inept. Yet, as i addictively strive to subject myself towards the company, and often interaction, of abusive others, i Fear i shall never rise above from the childishness of Sharing.
29 Jan 2003	Ndrew	Just slug it out, there are too many other games to play, just let this one slide, it isn't worth its hype, honest!
28 Jan 2003	queermo	Suicide Bombers
27 Jan 2003	Marshall Banana	Slit your wrists and drown yourself in your own blood.
27 Jan 2003	KC	TAKING 5 EXTACY PILLS AT ONCE FOLLOWED BY A BOTTLE OF VODCA...
25 Jan 2003	samWISE	I like your breasts, lucy. they look very professional!
22 Jan 2003	Dimitri Mackellar	SYMPARANECROMENIAN CATASTROPHES. VOL.-1 The sun is an acid eye/we're corroded with pleasure inside/there's a hole in your thin white skin/now we'll never be clean again/Our hands are two shattered claws/we scrape at the ground for hours/i buried this soul in the floor/to gain control of unfeeling/This city's a crowded room/this earth is a closing tomb/in my hand is your perfect womb/when you breathe your breath is obscene/My heart is a lead box/ideas are shutting locks/the air was just turned off/now we're sucking from this Machine/The sun did not rise today/your children will stay where you lay/the oil is black and it's thick/and sex is a void filled with plastic/The president's mouth is a whore/when there's murder the audience roars/there's no room left here for the strong/and everything Human's necessarily wrong. AMNESIA. ~m.gira