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My name is RalF Terrance Brock, I am 25 years old, and i am about to jump. I step up to the ledge, and peer down over it. The people down there that are hustleing around, scurrying to work, look about the size of a cat. I look into the office window accross the street, a lady is working at a desk. She looks up, startled, i smile and wave to her, no reason to be rude. I see her as she grabs the phone. I have an idea who she is calling. To give them credit, the police, and fire fighters get their quick, course the were only a few blocks away to begin with, i get lost in my thoughts for a moment. A voice reached up to me, and caught my attention, i could hear a helicopter approaching also, "i'll be famous yet" i think to myself.
I hear the voice on the megaphone telling me not to jump. I could listen to the voice, but i wont. As i reach a cross roads, i still think about her. All i wanted was Lori, but she only wanted Thomas, or Kenneth.
Her and Thomas had a thing goin, he wanted to tell me, he should have told me, but she said no, she didnt want to hurt me. Hell, i never had her phone number, or her address, yet they did. Yeah, maybe i was a little bit jealous, or maube i was getting the wrong signals, hell with her, it was hard telling sometimes. She wanted to be in control of her life every moment in time, hell i couldnt do anything unless she told me i could with anything about her. When i stopped to think about what i knew about her, it wasnt much. I knew what state she lived in, and what type of job she had, but that was it. I never know when i would chat or speak with her again, and i always told myself, that i wouldnt fall for her as bad as before, that i would finally get the hint that she never wanted to be with me, but everytime, i heard her voice, i fell just as hard for her again.
But now it will be different, not the first time i have been at these crossroads, but it will be the last time. No more crying on maryann, or chris's shoulders. no more reading ages old emails. No more stupid poems, or messages. Lori i think you might be proud, or glad now, i finally got the hint.
No more laughter, no more tears.
I look down again.
they cleared me a path, starting to set up a cushion.
cats i say to no one.
Lori, this ones for you, i think to myself, as i step off of the ledge.
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Why'd i do it?
i dunno, maybe the depression got to me, maybe it was the hopelessness. Maybe i disgusted myself to much. no big loss.
the next day, there was my picture in the paper, and my name on the news. The picture had the caption "why?".
like i said, no big loss.
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It's amazing the freedom you feel, when you wake up, and realize that you will die alone.
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I feel that.
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Is it just me....?
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and either this year or early next year ya gonna see it to
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Mr. Luv, it seems as if you wrote this 2 yrs. ago, yet I have also been to these crossroads in which you speek, thus I feel yer pain.
Which brings us to that question, why didn't you do it?
Purpose..yess, believe it or not there is a purpose for all of <u>us</u> lil' maggots.
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They say curiosity killed the cat, but it kept me alive. jumping? no, I liked knives. Still do, but I don't hold them to my wrists or point them towards my heart anymore. Dying seems too easy now, though, so I put it off due to it's inevitability. I'd still like to choose th moment, but I can live with the uncertainty, too. So, for now, the chaos of living keeps me intrigued, and I keep my demons in check most of the time. I would hope the same for Spyder, but it's his choice. I know I'll miss him, but maybe we'll catch each other again in the next life. In most cases, suiciders are either pathetic, obnoxious, selfish brats or misguided, beaten down losers that just give up. I have been both, but I respect Spyder because he eventually gave it enough thought to learn that there are many more profound aspects to both life and death.
maybe he can give you better insight n his own words, if you can catch him...
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yanno.. i think most of my stuff is shit..but it seems like the stuff i do, that i like the most is when im obsessed intrigued or depressed.
