suicide is a permanent solution to temporary problems. everything in life is just a phase. some last longer than others. keep your head up.
suicide leaves those around you wondering where they went wrong and how they could’ve prevented it. do you want to make others feel like it’s their fault? you will hurt your loved ones a lot more than you are hurting right now, i promise. so don’t let your problems control you. you can and will overcome them. sometimes when i think too much, i miss the beauty of life. and i slow down, and think, really think, about all the places i’ve been and the places i will go, and all the people that will change my life, and all the lives i’ll change, and the sunsets i have yet to see and the sunrises i have yet to sleep through and it makes me smile. but the sheer size of the world and all the lonely, lovely people in it, dying unnecessarily by taking their own lives saddens me. i don’t want to lose you too.
life is beautiful. you shouldn’t throw it away. have you ever stopped for a moment outside at night, and felt the air pressing on your body, breathed it in as deep as you possibly could, and looked up at the sky? you feel so human. but so alive. i don’t want you to throw your life away, or these feelings we are so capable of experiencing.
Here’s why I will be a good person. Because I listen. I cannot talk, so I listen very well. I never deflect the course of the conversation with a comment of my own. People, if you pay attention to them, change the direction of one another’s conversations constantly. It’s like being a passenger in your car who suddenly grabs the steering wheel and turns you down a side street. For instance, if we met at a party and I wanted to tell you a story about the time I needed to get a soccer ball in my neighbor’s yard but his dog chased me and I had to jump into a swimming pool to escape, and I began telling the story, you, hearing the words “soccer” and “neighbor” in the same sentence, might interrupt and mention that your childhood neighbor was Pele, the famous soccer player, and I might be courteous and say, Didn’t he play for the Cosmos of New York? Did you grow up in New York? And you might reply that, no, you grew up in Brazil on the streets of Tres Coracoes with Pele, and I might say, I thought you were from Tennessee, and you might say not originally, and then go on to outline your genealogy at length. So my initial conversational gambit – that I had a funny story about being chased by my neighbor’s dog – would be totally lost, and only because you had to tell me all about Pele. Learn to listen! I beg of you. Pretend you are a dog like me and listen to other people rather than steal their stories.