[This could be triggering — but that’s the last thing I intend. If you are suicidal, please reach out. And if you have no one you can talk to, please talk to me.]
So you want to die. Maybe you’ve already opened your skin a little, to see blood and feel alive. I’m not going to tell you how to live — I’m going to tell you how to kill your Self, your ego that hurts so much. And maybe it’s the weirdest advice you’ll ever hear, but life is fucked up sometimes, so hear me out.
You can be free from yourself, and it’s just as thrilling as jumping into traffic. It’s as hardcore as cutting and the risks are high.
Imagine you’re already dead — your Self doesn’t matter — life doesn’t matter — you’re a ghost. Kill yourself in your mind, now, and cut your soul so deep you might never be the same.
You’re already dead; so you have nothing to fear. No responsibilities to worry about.
Have you ever dreamed of throwing yourself in front of an 18-wheeler? With all the thrill of pain and terror and meeting the unknown? I have a different way, and I won’t tell you it’s any better, but why not try? You’re already dead, so what have you got to lose?
Throw yourself in front of a lonely stranger and ask them if they’re okay. Then just listen, like the ghost you are.
I don’t know what will happen. No one does. But you’re dead, so don’t take things so seriously. Laugh like it’s all a joke, this life, and give up all the fear you have left.
Be free from yourself for a little while. It’s a terrifying and thrilling thing. You might find it more exciting than opening your skin or getting high. Instead of giving up your blood and pain, give up energy and time. It’s as risky a sacrifice as physical destruction.
Try something just as exhilarating as standing on the very edge of a bridge. Jump off the edge of your Self and its fears. If you’re into risky behaviour, take risks with your heart and soul.
It may not feel better. And I know you just want to feel better, at the heart of it all. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll find a reason to stay out of traffic and get in front of other people’s rushing souls instead. Maybe if you kill yourself and your fears in your mind, you’ll find the freedom to be yourself in life.
Disaster days keep us alive.
We eat the dead. We burn the dead
and build from the dead, a fate
no cry of compassion can quit.
Disaster is the elixir of life, bringing
us to boil with adrenaline
until we feel on fire, so alive.
Complete peace only stagnates, dulls and deadens
as cunningly as poison,
and small sips make us all think we’re immune
but real salvation lies
in the terror of existence, where we live
just atoms away from death, always.
Here, there’s nothing to do but dance
between every breath
that could be our last.
Anything could happen.
It’s the disaster days that throw
us onward through time; it’s death
that gives us life until we die.
The leaping is easy: suddenly
no worlds, but vaults
their gaps; she sails
a life’s span, teasing
fear with homeless feet. Concealed
time-spans and space-spans await
her, promising to hold
her the way she dreams:
bound and unbound
all at once.
Last night I was happier than I have ever been in my life. And last night, I thought I was going to die.
But it didn’t have to happen that literally. We were out driving (of course), throwing apples to any deer or raccoon we saw along the way. I know feeding wild animals is frowned upon, but I think deer munch on fallen apples anyway, and we didn’t approach them.
So I was spilling my guts to my partner, who, bless her heart, doesn’t think I’m crazy. But she was telling me I had to give up a few things I’d been obsessing about, and it hurt like hell. I felt distant from her, bawling my eyes out, and that was enough death for me. She means everything to me.
But everything we said and did and saw and heard had additional layers of meaning. Everything was clicking into place, making perfect sense. Even every song on my mix CD had new meaning.
We came upon a dead rabbit, and that symbolized my death too. Then everything went dark and quiet for a while, and like I said, it was hell.
Then the deer came back again. See, deer is my primary spirit animal. In a way, I AM deer. I called out to it, “Have you come back to me now?”
And all was beautiful. We saw another herd of deer nestled up sleeping (!) by the road. Dreaming their deer-dreams.
I felt and said that all would be new again when I woke up in the morning. And it is. My favourite cat seems more orange and wild than ever. I’m changed too.
Blessed be, blessed be.
by the gaps between
your atoms. Spirit knows
space is neither here nor there.