I found some suicide notes. More honest then any novel. Want to write the next American classic? Write a suicide note, and follow through.
Married male, age 74
What is a few short years to live in hell. That is all I get around here.
No more I will pay the bills.
No more I will drive the car.
No more I will wash, iron & mend any clothes.
No more I will have to eat the leftover articles that was cooked the day before.
This is no way to live.
Either is it any way to die.
Her grub I can not eat.
At night I can not sleep.
I married the wrong nag-nag-nag and I lost my life.
W.S.
to the undertaker
We have got plenty money to give me a decent burial. Don't let my wife kid you by saying she has not got any money.
Give this note to the cops.
Give me liberty or give me death.
W.S.
[LOL his wife must have fucking sucked]
Married female, age 56
About the Evil god (yes)
About the Evil Seers killing people for their money (yes)
I am a profit at my death
I am a root of the stem of Jesse (yes)
We have made many discoveries. We have found out who the people with the mark of the beast are. And the devil was a human being now killed and cast into hell and the angel with the keys of the bottomless pit is in hell casting out all the good souls which these evil people have cast into hell for no reason. The good Seers who serve our God are 1/3 to 2/3 of the evil ones in this world. We are better than holding our owne but in Heaven God is almost over come and I kill myself so I may go and help him, because I have a funny little quirk in my brain which helps.
6 palmy each at a few years sport. Our god will send them into the world.
Thomas, a hairdresser, 21 years old
I tried it five years ago. I was at a neighbor's house and fired a gun at my head. Nothing happened; it seemed empty. I fired it at a wall and put a bullet in it. So a minute later I found some Seconals in a medicine cabinet. I remember watching cartoons and taking the pills one by one. A neighbor lady found me and couldn't wake me up. I couldn't open my eyes or move, but I heard everything. I remember the lady shaking me and saying, "Oh, my God." I remember the ambulance people taking off my clothes and making me throw up. There wasn't any pain. I don't remember having my stomach pumped.
When I woke up it was five days later. A big black lady kept tickling me. "'Bout time you woke up," she said. "I've been tickling you for three days." I thought I was in heaven -- it looked like some place in heaven for the misfits. Turned out I was in the basement of a free clinic, a long room with rows of beds with all kinds of teenagers, pregnant girls, suicides, drug addicts. We walked around in gowns, smoking cigarettes and watching TV. The reason I tried was I was angry at my mother, but when she came in she just said, "Why'd you do this -- to try to get attention?"
Am I glad I was rescued? Oh yeah. I was so glad I didn't die. It made me realize how much I appreciate myself, because I had a glimpse of what I might have lost. I had some friends and I would've missed them. I didn't have to go home after that. They put me in a foster home. The State made me go to a psychiatrist. I never liked the man. I thought he had more problems than I did. I felt drugged and slow for a couple of years. Every now and then I'd take speed to feel normal. Downers still make me feel speedy. If I had a suicidal friend now I'd ask them, "Why don't you have any alternatives? Could it really be so awful?" That's what I say to myself now.
Single female, age 31
My boss, Kenneth J., seduced me and made me pregnant. He refuses to help me. I had not had intercourse in two years. He says that I will have to suffer through it by myself.
Several people know about this -- my doctor, Dr. James R., and Pete M., who works at Willams. Pete and I never had a love affair, although Kenneth would like to drag Pete into it. Also, Dr. Arnold W. knows about it.
I have always been such a good girl.
Daddy dear --
As much as it hurts me, I cannot make it this Friday. I may be in very serious trouble. I have always been a very good person, but it looks like I really got in a mess, through no real fault of my own.
I must have been born to suffer.
Love - Elizabeth
P.S. Call me if you can. When will Sally be back? I may need her desperately.
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