The suicide note

"Death is an inevitable certainty, and The strongest of all forces.

To whom it touches: it brings relief and eternal rest, or pain and eternal damnation.

To his friends:it brings pain, sadness and grief.

To his enemies:it brings happiness, joy and exaltation.

Thus making it the only entity which could start or end, anything and everything." Othman Nahhas.




The date is November/ 13th/ 2020. It's quite a grim winter evening, suitable for a Friday night. Rainy as always in this season, with a bit of sadness that accompanies the both ominous and auspicious sound of raindrops on a concrete ceiling. My chamber looks the same as always. Empty, as if it's almost uninhabited. The only soul this room has seen in decades is mine. Objects of nostalgia lay there side by side with objects of non-value, reflecting how little attention I give to my surroundings being as preoccupied as I'm with my thoughts. And me? Well I'm just me. I have a job, 9 hours a day like many people. I go to my job I go home, I pay my rent I pay my bills. I'm just a person, lost in the beehive that is our society. Now to whomever reading this (if there is any) you've already deducted that this is a suicide note,or at least I wish you did given the fact that I'm dead.

Now if you knew me, you know that I'm not one to abide by social convention. And correct you are. I'm not writing this note because of the catastrophically insane rules of a species that didn't exist a million years ago. No, I'm writing this with the purpose of philosophically justifying the act of ending one's life, if one should decide so. An act which, until this day, is considered clerically sinful and morally wrong.

I'd like to begin by acknowledging that even though I'm classified under the 'ingrads' a term which was assigned to those who don't hold a university diploma after the 2018 universal decision to close down all universities for 10 years, thus obliging more people to take on labor jobs in order to solve the unemployment problem. I still take pride in my intellect, and I do as well in my philosophies which are induced by my insufferably hyperactive mind. And since I'm not a writer, the following might seem a bit chaotic, which should give you a rare insight into my head.

I've always seen the world through the glasses of ingenuity, glasses which a lot of people wear. They do that unwillingly of course because they were born with these glasses,and those are the kind of glasses that give you a headache. I started thinking deeply about everything as far back as I can remember. I recall asking questions as a child that rendered adults speechless and that were often met with scoldings. I'll give an example here, for the sake of proof.

When I was 12 I was sitting on the bus listening to music through earphones, and an old man interfering as they do (because their kids are functioning on their own and they are terrified of feeling unneeded) told me that listening to music like that can damage my ears and make me deaf. And my answer, which gave a good chuckle to everyone on the bus, was "How can you possibly know that? Do you have any scientific evidence to support your theory?"

Now that you know who I am, I'll start unraveling my philosophy. Personally I've been here and there. I've tried almost everything imaginable. Every type of common pleasure, ranging from drugs, sex and alcohol. To simply a good cup of tea with a nice book on a cold winter's eve. And while those pleasures did give me a temporary ecstasy, that ecstasy was gone soon thereafter. And as I went through life I was building a database of variables trying to reach a simple answer. And that I have, I've reached a conclusion..... Every pleasure I can have, comes from someone else.
Let me support this hypothesis:

I've always enjoyed reading books, books are written by other people. I enjoy watching TV, listening to music, playing video games, all of which were made by other people. Even if I'm outside doing a sport, which was invented by other people, I have to wear clothes....... Again made by other people. The bed on which I'm lying right now, the room I'm in, the device on which I'm writing my note because my penmanship is horrifying, were all made by other people. My thoughts which should be of my own, are formed because of the society in which I live that conceives the universe in a specific way. And even those, my thoughts, are in a language which was invented by people and taught to me by other people. I was literally created inside another human...... How much more dependent can one be?

This dependence this........ De-Personalisation. Made me realize that I am in a codependent world in which pleasure is external and temporary whilst depression is internal and static. And just like if you're born in an area you don't like you get to leave, the same moral applies here. I'm not saying that the world is wrong, I just don't like it. I don't like the fact that you get treated differently based on the geographical location in which you were born. I don't like the fact the we get classified by 'credit' a number which has absolutely no value, which was the genius corporate solution of replacing money. In short.... I don't like the life that we as humans perceive.

Einstein said 'If you don't like your situation, change it. You're not a tree.' and with him I can't agree more. Some geniuses will tell me that I should try to change the world, make it better instead of just leaving it. I say to them, I didn't say it needs to be changed, I don't think it's wrong, I think the world works like it does because it needs to work like it does. I just don't like it. If I don't like someone or something that doesn't mean that I should try to change them, I should just leave them be. In their own way they're perfect and I'm sure many like the world the way it is, and I don't blame those either. So in conclusion the decision of change should be in the hands of the human, regardless of what that change is. One's freedom ends where other's freedom starts, and this decision is as a freedom as a freedom can be.

Another argument religious people would say is that if you end your life you'll go to hell. To them I shall quote one of my favorite writers and thinkers, an eccentric Mediterranean fellow called Othman Nahhas 'Humans are born from nothing, and yet they have the audacity to believe that after death they won't go back to nothing. Because they believe their life is too meaningful ......... ...... A more narcissistic species I've never seen.' condescending as he is, the guy has a point. Though I have a slightly different approach to the subject. If there is in fact a deity he or she is always described as loving and merciful. I really highly doubt that he or she will send me forever to a place I'd hate because I left a place I hate. That would be a bit ironic and counterproductive. So as far I'm concerned I think God will make the right choice.

Moving on to another aspect, how would one's passing affect those around him. Or more precisely how it won't. Whether the person who ends their life (which henceforth I'll just call 'the decider') has anyone in their life, who will be affected by their absence or not, that effect will be temporary. It's a fact that no one can't live without any one. Literally any human alive can live without any human in their life. Even if one had a spouse, one of the two spouses well eventually die leaving the other spouse alive. So the absence of the decider even though it might effect some, it will pass and life will go on. Of course there shall be some grief and mourning but that's just the natural order of things. The landlord will find a new tenant, the employer will find a new employee, the mourners will move on and the order of the things will be exactly the same as it was before. It might seem blunt to state what I just stated, but the truth is often blunt to those unwilling to accept it. And death is something which needs to be accepted.

One last aspect, selfishness. It is said that a decider is selfish because he chose an easy way out. But maybe it's not the easy way out, it's just a change like I said earlier. Let's view this from the decider's eyes. It's quite selfish for the people around the decider to expect him to remain in a situation which he hates just because if he left they have to deal with it. That is not only selfish and unfair but it borders on narcissism. If you really think about it, the decider is the least selfish, and if those around him really care, they would gladly bear some emotional turmoil for the decider. That being said, there is one decider who is selfish, and that is a decider who has kids. If one has kids, one must live for his kids. Because the moment you decide to have kids, you become a completely different type of a decider and your life is theirs until a day comes in which they can survive on their own. Then you may do what you well.

I'm not quite sure how you end a suicide note, but if I'm to have a last word I would want it to be
anti-prejudice, as in instead of judging the decider see the world through their eyes and justify their deed.

And with these words I leave this world, not a better a place and not a worst one.
Just a playground for many and tonight a humbling graveyard for one.

48 hours of emotional mayhem.

 The weekend started like any other, it was Friday night and I was laying in bed, firing at my neural inhibitors whatever my weapon of choice for that week was; may it be reading or writing, watching or listening, drinking or smoking, I did what i could to obleviate my self from reality and fly on one cloud or another.

 Saturday morning came along and i woke up because you eventually you have to. I looked around the room, the chaos of which reminded me of how little time i spend there. I got up and made my way through the jungle of clothes and empty containers. I looked at the mirror and believed for a moment there that I'm fine.

 I spent the morning like the night before, and then got ready to go meet a friend from the past. With her she carried tokens from my past, things of which I had let go (which is a term I prefer much more than reality 'things on which I had given up) and then I realised: I who looked at her in the past is not I who look at her now.

 I was afflicted by who I am, who I was and what has became  of me. I gazed at the token and started drowning, losing my self in the dark sea of my past. Memories like waves throwing me from one darkness into the other, rendering me unable to perceive the present or anticipate the future.

 Time slipped away and suddenly it was the next day. I went about, keeping my afflictions to my self, not for the lack of words in my mouth but for the lack of ears around me. And just when thought I'm fine again I got smashed by the ghost of a former paramour befriending someone close to me and suddenly my whole world came crashing down.

 Not because of their relationship but because of the reminder that this paramour was an oasis in the desert which is the lonliness that had befallen me in this strange land. A land in which I feel rejected, friendless and lost. That oasis, my former paramour, had at one point in this dark epoch, shaded me from the scorching desert sun in her embrace, had relinquished my thirst in her safe asylum, and in that shade I saw hope, but no more.

 The oasis is no more and now there is just me and the desert. Exhausted by the merciless ball of fury of a sun, I look around and all I see is sand, misery and death. No escape from this maddening terrain, and with every wisp of wind more sand fills my eyes leaving me more and more blinded, imprisoned within the dark sea in my brain, condemned to eternal blackness.

 And then the next day comes, and I'm obliged to put on my mask and go to work where I shall be belittled and ridiculed by people who make me lose faith in humanity.

 And nine hours later I go back to the desert with the scorching sun and gloomy sand and I lay there soaked in helplessness and paralysed by blindness. And I wait.......

One kiss.

I tremble at the mere thought of you so imagine how I feel when we kiss.
As I touch you and pull you close to me I feel my heart pounding, I feel the world spinning,  I feel the stream of life flowing and suddenly the surrealism of the embrace crashes down on me.
As we get closer I feel the proximity. The proximity of us, the proximity of the countless worlds, the proximity of everything that is, was, and will be.
And then our lips touch and my heart implodes, I feel everything and nothing all at once.
l have feelings I didn't know to be conceivable, feelings that I thought only existed in the deepest pages of books, or in the furthest corners of our imagination.
And then slowly but magically, reality starts to fade. Existence disappears, time flattens, and life becomes a mere a delirium. Until there is no where but here, no time but now,  and no one but you and I.

The moon's jealousy.

She laid down and looked up at the moon with a smile on her face. Though she was unsure if it was a smile to mask the loneliness or to accept the comfort. The moon in return smiled at her for a moment but then it turned into a frown. When  she asked him why,  he said that he was jealous of the sun because she has her own light and he is merely a reflector. And at that moment she realised that jealousy wasn't just human. She was jealous of a human, the moon was jealous of the sun.  And God knows of whom the sun is jealous. She rolled to her side and said to her self 'eh, sadness needs to exist in order for happiness to be appreciated. At least I'm jealous about something which can be obtained.  ' and went to sleep.

Masking prejudice

I walk into the class and I see the smile on their face.

But what they don't know is that they're looking at a mutant. 

A monster created by a bias society to appear more acceptable. 

I see their trusting stares and I doubt whether I should hate them or my self? Their prejudice or my acceptance  to wear the mask. 

Prejudice.......... Definitely prejudice 

Prejudice is a horrifying monster which sinks it's claws in the backs of those trying to progress.

Just because they have a specific heritage, something  which they didn't even choose. 

Like being imprisoned by a thought or a ghost. 

Prejudice prevents us from who we can become based on things that has nothing to do with who we are. 

It lurks around every corner,  reflecting the ugliness of human nature. 

An ugliness which nurtures my cynicism and hopelessness. 

And yet I wear the mask....... 

Not to hide my ugliness but to avoid theirs. 

Walking

Friendless and aimless I walk alone.
Alone in a strange land which rejects and fights me like a body fights a decease.
As if I'm an intruder,  whilst I'm just another soul trying to find the way.
The way out of the past into the unknown which unfolds slowly as I grow.
Never would I choose this life yet it chose me.
And I sit here..... Waiting anxiously for the universe to miss me and undo my sin.
I ask not how, for that is the universe's concern not mine.
She,  in her infinite wisdom, shall find a way to restore the balance which the world needs...... and take me home.

Inside the walls

I wake up surrounded by four walls and i wonder on which side am I?
Are these walls my freedom or my imprisonment?
Do they free me for who i was into who i am?
Or do they imprison me in who i am from who i can become?
I admire these walls, they always stand there like a pillar to which i can fall.
Whether i'm up or down, these walls are always there. providing me with shelter, keeping me safe.
Perhaps it's not the walls who free or imprison
Perhaps it's I who decide on which side i need to be.