This is the first entry I am writing on a new laptop. It feels like a fresh start. I can't smell that new laptop smell, however, because I left water boiling on a cast-iron skillet and forgot about it. So now our entire house smells like burnt hamburgers and cat hair. But we will survive. Incense, incense, incense, you soothe the spirits, suck away smells, and cover up smoking in any enclosure.
Elle, our former roommate, the 92-lb goth drama queen just found out her ex-fiance committed suicide. Before he did he posted a suicide note on his myspace page listing reasons for his depressed state and subsequent decision. Elle was number 6 on this list.
I would have been insulted. Number 6 and you expect me to care? Write me back when I am number 2 or so.
10 years or so ago a beautiful girl with braid hair, dark eyes, and handcuffs had a crush on me. If I were single I would have gone for her, but she moved to Florida a month later and shot herself shortly after. The found her in a bathtub in the sweltering summer, body half eaten by cicadas. That sort of thing pulls your emotions down for a long time afterword like a cartoon raincloud that follows you around that noone else can see.
"I am just wet, ok? It doesn't matter how it happened, go away, I'm brooding. And bring me a towel to sit on, dammit!"
In the case of Elle, the police cleared out his social networking pages by the next day, it is now like he never existed. Spooky. One less target for spammers, one less abandoned profile, one less digital tombstone complete with a guilt trip. Ce la vie.
Do you have any interesting suicide or death stories? I have more that were lost last time Bloop crashed. Maybe I will retread more of this morbid ground when the alcohol hits me right. Until then, let your sadness drift in sea of sex, shots, and song. love, love. |