| Reading these suicide pages you will find people seeking help and people offering their help. Some witness about suicide from real life experience, others who play along with me would pretend it's a children's game. Some make sick and cruel jokes about it, and angry people blame me for even mentioning the subject. You might also want to read my favourite answers. If you want your answer to be included here, fill in the form. |
| Date |
Name/email Nom/email |
What is the best way to kill yourself when you're under 13? Quelle est la meilleure forme de suicide pour les moins de 13 ans? |
| 20 Feb 2003 | Eponine Mackellar | PAPIER TUE-MOUCHES. Hey you... you with the serpent smile... You've been a creature far too long. Hey you... you with your public displays of pain... You've been painful for too long. "THE SAVAGE GOD", written by a Mr. Alvarez (i've forgotten his first name), provides time well spent if you have any interest in the Art of Dissimulation. i often feel that the Dadaists had reality down on its knees... begging for forgiveness. ~To feign morality/To feign mortality. ~Again, there is new life here in Pleasant Prairie and the colorful, flowery coverlet of factory-life is spread over it. Last night at midnight an individual in shabby clothes was seized because, as the rental-cop said, he had shed gross abuse upon some roadside garbage-heap, but the rental-cop who should report such things had not actually seen it, and the culprit was still beaten, unjustly it is believed, and no one made a complaint... no one knows anything about it. ~Today... time stumbles bye as usual... and this is merely Pleasant Prairie. What is that compared to Cornwall, Gravesend, the World??? Each person takes her revenge on the world. Mine appears to consist in carrying my grief and anguish deeply embedded within myself, whilst my laughter entertains all. If i see somebody suffer i sympathize with her, console her to the limits of my ability... to the limits of my science... and listen to her quietly when she assures me that i am fortunate. ...If i can keep this up to the day of my Death, i shall have had my revenge. In a room above a busy street/the echoes of a life/the fragments and the accidents/are separated by incidents//Listen to the walls/we share the same spaces/repeated in the corridors/performing the same movements//The nature of your tragedy is chained around your neck/do you lead...or are you led?/i'm sure that you don't care//There are reasons here to give your life/and follow on your way/the passion breathes to keep the faith/though all are different...all are Great//Climbing as we fall/we dare to hold on to our faith/to steal away our destiny/and catch ourselves with quiet grace... ~Michael |
| 20 Feb 2003 | zuzu | i want to know |
| 20 Feb 2003 | Michael Mackellar | Has anyone seen SOLARIS????????????????? |
| 19 Feb 2003 | javier payeras | hold your breath, till you die |
| 19 Feb 2003 | jess | hang ur self behind the stage at ur school i know sumone who did and it worked out pretty good 4 him |
| 18 Feb 2003 | cassie dorr | whats the best way for myself to commit suicide im 15 years old iight please email me like wwhat pills should i take and all that shit |
| 18 Feb 2003 | Lee | Stop breathing. |
| 18 Feb 2003 | onirique | peut-ĂȘtre bien de jouer avec ce qui fait le plus peur aux plus de treize ans: le refus de manger par exemple..... |
| 18 Feb 2003 | pascale | la meilleure est de leur dire de s'enfermer dans les toilettes avec un gros couteau de cuisine et qu'il essaie de se l'enfoncer dans le plexus solaire. Ils peuvent toujours essayer mais c'est trop dur donc ca reste a 90 pour cent un jeu |
| 15 Feb 2003 | Jenesis | Slit your wrists. Remember, it's down the road, not across the street. ;o) |
| 14 Feb 2003 | Terminus a Quo/Terminus ad Quem | Weh!!! Steck'ich in dem kerker noch? Aus der verwesung schtoss... Like a pawn on the eternal board/who is never quite sure what he is moved toward/...i crawl blindly on/and Heaven is in front of me/Her Heaven beckons me enticingly/...when i arrive i'm gone/ the river flows/destiny knows/...i follow You. ~M.Gore (>)=inferential derivation (c)=boundary value conditions (t)=body of theoretical machinery (ct)=conjunction of relevant situation-characterizing facts Hempelian Explanation~"Everything that occurs in Nature-every one of the world's eventuations-has a casual explanation." Grand Unified Theory~...single unified theory that, even if it cannot explain Everything, can at any rate explain everything that is explicable. Divine Indifference~"The driving force behind Creation." |
| 14 Feb 2003 | Marion Mackellar | LUX AETERNA ...To love one's neighbor means, while remaining within the earthly distinctions allotted to one, essentially to exist equally for every human being without exception. Consider for a moment the world which lies before you in all its variegated multiplicity; it is like looking at a play, only the plot is vastly more complicated. Every individual within this innumerable throng is by her differences a particular something; she exhibits a definiteness... but essentially she is something other than this- but this we do not get to see here in life. Here we see only what role the individual plays and how she does it. It is like a play. But when the curtain falls, the one who played the Queen, and the one who played the Angel, and all the others- they are all quite alike, all one and the same: Actresses. And when in death the curtain shatters the stage of actuality (for it is a confused use of language if one speaks about the curtain being rolled up on the stage of the eternal at the time of death, because the eternal is no stage... it is truth), then they also are all one; they are human beings. All are that which they essentially were, something we did not see because of the difference we see; they are human beings. The stage of art is like an enchanted world. But just suppose that some evening some common absent-mindedness confused all the actresses so they thought they really were what they were representing. Would this not be, in contrast to the enchantment of art, what one might call the enchantment of an evil spirit, a bewitchment? And likewise suppose that in the enchantment of actuality (for we are, indeed, all enchanted, each one bewitched by her own distinctions) our fundamental ideas became confused so that we thought ourselves essentially to be the roles we play. Alas, but is this not the case? It seems to be forgotten that the distinctions of earthly existence are only like a costume or like a travelling cloak and that every individual should watchfully and carefully keep the fastening cords of this outer garment loosely tied, never in obstinate knots, so that in the moment of transformation the garment can easily be cast off, and yet we all have enough knowledge of art to be offended if an actress, when she is supposed to cast aside her disguise in the moment of transformation, runs out on the stage before getting the cords loose. But alas, in actual life one laces the outer garment of distinction so tightly that it completely conceals the external character of this garment of distinction, and the inner glory of equality never, or very rarely, shines through... Something it should do and ought to do constantly. |
| 12 Feb 2003 | saut situmorang | be creative, kiddo! just watch what your parents (if you have any) say and do before, during and after having sex! that's the best way to kill yourself --boredom! be a peeping mouchette!!! |
| 12 Feb 2003 | david | a teenage riot |
| 11 Feb 2003 | Nathalie | Throw yourself from the 9th stage window ... This is the best way to kill yourself whatever your age... the bug is that there is no way back!!!! Once you're dead ... you're dead!!! |
| 11 Feb 2003 | marie | se jeter sous un train |
| 11 Feb 2003 | Michael Mackellar | i used to have the WORST job in the world. Just imagine the most unbearably apathetic sort of situation which could ever befall a Being... and you'll catch a glimpse of what i went through. i sincerely HATE to think that others are subjected to such circumstances and that they are not even aware of it. Take certain trial-lawyers for instance, they'll sue MacDonald's over some focking bloke choking on a chicken macnugget, yet they don't have the balls to sue THE DEGENERATE (the man) for falsely sentencing someone to Death. |
| 11 Feb 2003 | Michael Mackellar | [insoc] DON'T BE AFRAID... ~the holy girl is in our focus she's the story of us all. she can feel our eyes upon her and the hope that she shall fall. on her left so warm and honey-sweet like a jealous loving friend. on her right such a steep cold and lonely climb. the clinging threat of rejection and the thought of her imperfection. she says she's nowhere near the end yet. still she makes no guarantees. she's comfortable with failure and her blood may one day freeze. and in her iodine stretch her eyes recede and fall away. she knows she's where nothing can reach her now. beyond where you can see. beyond where she wants to be. one day she was a child. she could touch the sun somehow. she was held in the arms of the galaxy and that child is with her now. and in her cobalt moments she'll know that she's afraid. her hands reach out and grasp at you. but she's falling further... falling further in the churning dark slide. now she's walking slowly onward through the garden you can't know. her dance so beautiful and twisted. a spinning madness in the snow. she's got a black-hole in there with her. she's got a sun down in there too. they're her partners in her eternal dance. she's not aware of time moving past her. she's not aware of getting any younger. she walks the ridge so glassy sharp. you can't find her now. you can't speak to her now... she'll never cry again. ~Kurt Harland |
| 10 Feb 2003 | A Ridiculous Man | Eclipse 0 ~Round the globe the train of dust/ round the globe the dust of mirages/ the shadow on the globe turns black/ the globe in the shadows of lost days./ The emerald sky has stretched out/ over the planet of maddened shadows/ towers have thrust their voice into the heavens/ and exploded within a chaos of decline./ The chain swings on the wall/ as a pendulum of an antique clock/ and i cry here in my mad fire/ of voices half-sane as the day. [ump] ~In the humpbacked Arbat streets/ an alien man got lost/ much seems to him to be strange/ in the noisy autumn peoplessness./ The street lamps and shop windows in a torrent/ of rusty light splash in the dark/ and the windows of peoople's thoughts, of beasts/ look at the autumn night./ Noisy crowds rush past/ in the howling of the cold wind/ and the desert of the autumn peoplessness/ is bloodsucked with the hubbub of greed./ In the humpbacked backstreets of the Arbat/ an alien man got lost/ he is like a beast captive in a bestiary/ and does not find the way out of the cage./ On the gloomy horizon of the cell/ no hope of the star's shining/ only a sun yellow like sardines/ and the dull waiting... when?/ Waiting surrounded the cell/ like a ghost of dead minutes/ it's those years of pains and distances/ i sleep in delerium i awake in delerium./ On the gloomy horizon of the cell/ no hope of the stars leaving a trail/ unhappiness menacingly rules in the walls/ with a station change for the other world or this world./ This cell- the delirium of my fantasy/ if i am a ghost among people/ this cell is a door to the expanse of the End/ the voices and wishes of the people. [unknown mental patient] |
| 09 Feb 2003 | swallow razorblades, watch yourself bleed. take pictures, send 'em to me. |
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