Suicide the ultimate avoidance

[osiris]

Wrote then decided to delete but couldn’t get rid of everything.
You don’t want to know.

 

[Ronin]

It's okay if you don't wanna say or can't.

What I'm thinking about, are you safe, with what's going on?

 

[osiris]

Safe for a bit.
Trying hard to stay safe for longer.
All a bit much.
Sorry. Sorry.

 

[Ronin]

It's cool, doesn't need sorries. :tup:

Safe for a bit is good... can just add other bits after this one ;) Will worry about that one when we get there.

Just like with puzzles... don't have ta solve the big picture things right now. Any tiny piece gotten, and being safe a while, is a damn good thing on its own.

 

[osiris]

So pulled another 10 hour day.
Earlier I laid on the floor at work in this massive space, looking up. It was like free falling downwards, the ceiling went out and then back down again. Felt so small and insignificant, too much and too little, scared at the same time.
Then got in the car and gave direct boss a lift. He wanted to know how I was after Thursday. Awkward. Can’t talk.

Dropped him off.

Huge storm clouds with the sun setting behind them. You know when the tips of the clouds glow gold?
And I wanted to lie in that moment and be burnt away like the clouds. Magnificent beautiful endings.

There’s a play by a guy called Martin Crimp, called Attempts on her life. There’s a scene in it where they talk about this girl who has travelled the world with a red bag with a smile on her face, and when she drowns herself with it tied to her ankle they find out it was full of stones all along.
Is that what I’m doing, just collecting stones?

 

[Ronin]

Art lies. (Hey, on years I can't work my fields, I'm an artist, so it's not like I don't *like* art).

That grand finale, going out...
Is not how going out works.

No glory in the reality. Blood and pain and everything of your *everything* hurting for hours, no thoughts and too many thoughts, things going odd and black and too noisy and can't-hear-a-damn-thing over own heartbeat, everything wrong with everything...

And knowing what you did to fix it all?
You f*cked up, and will not ever right.

Because oh, my heartbeats too loud.

Or?
Death is silent.
You don't *hear* the bullet.

... And waking up in a (base) (home) (fine, w/e, normal world means hospital), nothing makes sense.

And nothing makes sense for *months*.
And years after, what you get of *that* is a sense of dread at sunlight.

Things like that.
Forget work f*ckups.
Death is a worse one.

That work mess ain't worth even thinking of it.

 

[osiris]

Oh Ro, I know art lies, I know there is no magnificent death really. No glory.
My best friend died. I was in the hospice. I saw the desperation and the smell of death.
I failed her.
She should be living, she had everything to lose and everything to live for.
Work f*ckups are nothing I know. And it’s that that makes me feel even more of a failure who should just stop the bitching and go.

 

[Ronin]

Triggered myself too much to proper words but:

The opposite.
Not a failure, person who lived through a lot...
Means should live more.
Because that you got through matters.

When we live?
Our dead live with us.
We go and they truly poof.

All she gave you lives through you.
You are *still* saving her every breath you take.

She just can't tell you that you're not failing her, but doing well.

And whining, pfft. It's the kind of whining that helps people ;) So a good one, one world needs *more* of, not *less*.

Besides bitching being good for the soul, it also lets others learn a lot. In many ways. Silence ain't teach like that. Shutting up because hurt is not helping anyone get better.

 

[osiris]

And its all a bit of a mindf*ck finding somewhere I can say *some* of this shit. Not had a place or people like this and don’t want to f*ck people off if I keep talking.

 

[Ronin]

Nah...

Buncha been here for ages of us here. Not easily shooed. ;) Fricking dinosaurs.

Say whichever you need at the moment, want, can, or all three.

Not hurting anyone by it.
Let it out.

 

[osiris]

Triggered myself too much to proper words but:

f*ck. Sorry. My fault. You don’t deserve that because of me.

When we live?
Our dead live with us.


All she gave you lives through you.
You are *still* saving her every breath you take.
She just can't tell you that you're not failing her, but doing well.

f*ck. So many tears.
Five minutes. Just to tell her what she meant to me. That I’d have died in her place a million times over.

 

[Ronin]

Nah... not cos you. No worries. ;) Cos of good shooter back a while. Not you.

She knows, you know? Your friend. Means she knew, she'd do the same for you. Time didn't work out, so she sadly left sooner, and is missed.

But you are and we're a good friend. Death doesn't cancel everything you were, you both and together. Death just can't reach that much, break that much. It never could.

*offers tissues & water*