Is suicide really so bad
Is there a time when suicide makes sense? If life offers nothing beyond the final breath, why sit through a whole movie you’re not enjoying? Hell, if the movie stinks, why bother?
Category Archives: Postpartum diaries
A story after the end
P.S.
Another suicide. There are too many people around me, around us, who committed suicide, who passed away.
I feel disturbed. Embarrassed. So, that’s why…? If it depends on my decision, I would stop this film to be shown anywhere. May be it is not late? Trying to find a way to do it…Seems impossible.
She cried after seeing the film.
I didn’t want to do this film. The film wanted me to do it. It is an excuse.
Still, the life is worth saving.
The melted relations
All fixed, fast frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned …
The road downhill
The unbearable wish for destruction - how far You can go, before start getting punched…Like the kids. The self destruction is so tempting, so close…Just a wish to hurt myself. And what after? - there is no after. Just ashes.
No end for the dirty dogs
And this is not going to stop. Never… For You, who told me “Life is a game, boy. Life is a game that one plays according to the rules.”
I know it is. I know it.
Game, my ass. Some game. If you get on the side where all the hot-shots are, then it’s a game, all right — I’ll admit that. But if you get on the other side, where there aren’t any hot-shots, then what’s a game about it? Nothing. No game.
