/lit/ - Literature

Hunter S. Thompson's suicide note is pretty sad.

It's your problem now. Peace out.

When everything looked so calm
When everything looked so nice
I needed to meet you
With your pretty face
You tortured me
And I could do nothing
Just watch
With my sad eyes from afar
Why had my fate to be like this: so coward and pathetic
I was madly in love
I don't know if it was just the willingness of loving someone in this life
All I know is that from my mouth you heard nothing
And I wanted to say everything
God anxiety won't allow
Fearing you; loving you
I can't sleep
Now I must go for an eternal one.

Suicide notes are the most asinine things.

>>2659674
Why do you think that, Toaster?

>>2659680
It's just because he's jelly cause I've created that master piece over there >>2659671

The title is this one, /r9k/ meets /lit/ and dies
Get on my level niggers

>>2659680
I fail to see any merit or purpose behind them.

>>2659671
>Pretentious and dark like my soul, vauge poem about the poor soul you stalk.
I'm in Toasters boat for this one... If you're going to make a suicide note, don't make it some faggy poem.
Say something like:
>Yeah, I didn't want to live anymore so I killed myself... Here are reasons X Y and Z.

>>2659700
Well, obviously it gives you the option of explaining yourself to people without giving them opportunity to sabotage your plans.

Well guys. It's me, OP. Can't you just create some? For fuck sake. I thought you guys liked writing.

From Mayakovsky's suicide letter:

She loves me...she loves me not.
I tear my hands, scatter the broken fingers...loves me not
As we scatter the random riddling heads of daisies
Tumbling through summer.

Though I adopt the smooth chin and greying hair,
The silver, tinkling out the change of years,
I hope, I know that age will never bring
The final shame of prudent commonsense.

It's after one and you must be asleep.
The milky way is like a silver river.
I'm in no hurry. There's no need
To wake you or disturb you with telegrams or thunder.

It's what they call the end of the affair.
Love's gondola has struck the rocks of fact.
We're quits--no point in totting up
Our score of troubles, miseries, and wrongs.

See how much peace the world can give.
The sky is wrapped in stars, the gift of night.
At such a time you rise, and find you speak
To all the years, the future, and the world.

It's after one and you must be asleep.
Or maybe you can feel the night as well.
I'm in no hurry. There's no need
To wake you or disturb you with telegrams or thunder.

Bitte töte mich

Ich bin so fertig aber mein Hand ist lahm
Ich wünsche mir so, jemand der mein Leben nahm
Ich kann nicht mehr, ich will nicht länger warten
Bitte töte mich und verscharr mich im Garten.

Here. If someone want's to translate it, go right ahead.

Something new is coming up
Something big
I'm waiting for the moment
I'm waiting for the heavens
for the happiness to come
Life can't be only it
Life shouldn't be like this
Growing up and knowing that the moment will never come
Life is what you make here
Life is what you do
and what you feel
It's not about waiting
It's all about the feelings
The feelings couldn't be controlled though
And I'm thinking where did all the joys go
And I wonder the infinity of space
And I'm feeling so small
And I get so...
So that I never wanted to say anything
Or to live
The fear of death
The nothingness of life
What is the point of dying?
What is the point of living?
And I'm still waiting here like a kid, and like did all those time

Most people consider suicide to be a result of mental illness. But, I ask you, who is truly ill?
Is it the man who sets up repetitive and unnecessary tasks to distract himself from something he is afraid to confront? Or is it the man who accepts his fate and refuses to buy into something he knows to be false.

It's fascinating that suicide is considered to be amoral, while most of the world's problems are caused by overpopulation and peoples' hoarding of life and resources. At the end of the day, we all know life is pointless, this isn't a test and there's no need to "create you own meaning". It's just a stupid exercise in denial and fear. The only way I can come even close to having free will is to take control and end the shitty cycle.
Every day I go outside in the suburbs I am reminded how fragile and egotistical humanity is, how we create this safety zone where we are protected from the true meaning, or lack there of, of life.

People want "to pursue happiness", but what is happiness? A dynamic form of denial.

**This is not an endorsement of suicide.

>>2660731
Was it you who created that?
Incredible
So true
Bt I think it's rather biological fear than anything else. Our body and our mind work in order to live even though our intellect sees no point in going on. Sicide should be legal. What it is that we can't even legally die?

look at this photograph
every time i do i h ave to laugh

>>2659714
I understand why people write them, I just fail to see any good reason to do so.
Writing out why you killed yourself seems pointless, because people can infer without it that your life sucked.
What else would you write? The gist of it would basically be that you didn't want to live anymore.
Everybody already knows that, as you're now dead.
You could argue it would give them a sense of closure, but I disagree, because you'd still be dead, and they'd still have to deal with it. Knowing why wouldn't change anything.

>>2661038
Where's the photograph?

>>2661043
>Writing out why you killed yourself seems pointless, because people can infer without it that your life sucked.
>Implying that people live because they like this life.
People live because they fear... See this >2660731

>>2660731
See this I mean >>2661050

>>2661043
Just because you're desperate to get into the bath, toaster... I see your game

>>2661043
>Implying that suicide notes isnt the most pure for of feeling abou life and how one saw the world.

That's why OP created this thread bro

>>2661043
I think the sense of closure of a suicide note over a harsh nothingness is always going to be a plus. Ultimately you are forcing your life to the "last words" scenario. There's nothing punchier than words that cost a life.

>>2661035
Yea, that's mine. I can't say that I truly believe what I wrote, but when I go for a jog around the suburbs and see the middle-aged men mowing their already short grass and pruning bushes I can't help but feel a surge of disgust for the banality of existence. It may be that I'm a bit jelly of something, because I'm not as independent or fulfilled as I'd like to be at this point in my life. But then I think of most people I know in that position and they are rarely independent or fulfilled and I realize that greed is the downfall of humanity.

That said, all we can really do is try to appreciate life for what it's worth and if possible make a meaningful contribution to existence. It's difficult to even gain a decent perspective though when the forces of inanity are so vast and suffocating.

Also, in response to the biological thing, I agree. We are geared to survive and reproduce. It is a little bit ironic though that we are the most powerful species and yet are the only ones who intentionally kill themselves (from what I know).

The sun is warm, the sky is clear,
The waves are dancing fast and bright,
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear
The purple noon's transparent might,
The breath of the moist earth is light,
Around its unexpanded buds;
Like many a voice of one delight,
The winds, the birds, the ocean floods,
The City's voice itself, is soft like Solitude's.

I see the Deep's untrampled floor
With green and purple seaweeds strown;
I see the waves upon the shore,
Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown:
I sit upon the sands alone,—
The lightning of the noontide ocean
Is flashing round me, and a tone
Arises from its measured motion,
How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion.

Alas! I have nor hope nor health,
Nor peace within nor calm around,
Nor that content surpassing wealth
The sage in meditation found,
And walked with inward glory crowned—
Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure.
Others I see whom these surround—
Smiling they live, and call life pleasure;
To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.

Yet now despair itself is mild,
Even as the winds and waters are;
I could lie down like a tired child,
And weep away the life of care
Which I have borne and yet must bear,
Till death like sleep might steal on me,
And I might feel in the warm air
My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea
Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.

Some might lament that I were cold,
As I, when this sweet day is gone,
Which my lost heart, too soon grown old,
Insults with this untimely moan;
They might lament—for I am one
Whom men love not,—and yet regret,
Unlike this day, which, when the sun
Shall on its stainless glory set,
Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy in memory yet.

>>2661166
Maybe this what you feel is the fate of a intellectual soul. And thanks again for that words, mate.

>>2661402
nice poem bud

hey do i know you from somewhere

I wrote two a few months back:

"Man sees his life; likes it; takes it."

Alternatively:

"There was a life in the dark. Then it was surrounded by light. There were other lives in the light. They said, “Stay.” But it knew the light and it was tired. The dark was easy and gentle. So it went back."

Dear Ash,

Smell ya later!

Regards,
Gary

>>2662137

>>2661402
whoever wrote this, i love you and this is gold

>>2662191
No samefaging allowed

maybe i was bored, maybe i was restless
maybe i forgot that life was supposed to be precious,
maybe i was selfish but i probably didn't care
maybe i was lost in the illusion of despair
maybe it was your fault, maybe it was mine
maybe this was closure, the only kind that I could find
maybe I was laughing as I pictured all your tears
so maybe this was payback for all those wretched years.
And maybe I don't give a fuck and just wanted to go,
maybe I was curious and just wanted to know.
maybe when my heartbeat stops, my soul the devil takes,
and drags me to the underworld, my spirit then he rapes.
And maybe that's all bullshit and instead i know the truth,
but then again I'm probably wrong, I'm just some stupid youth,
So hopefully sometime soon, we'll meet and i will grin,
and when you're close enough to watch, I'll kill myself again.

The best suicide note I ever read was "Done because we are too menny."

>>2659622
"No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun — for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your (old) age. Relax — This won't hurt."

>>2661043
>because people can infer without it that your life sucked.
Shows how little you know about suicide notes or suicide in general. There are plenty of parents of suicide victims who look at their child and go "I didn't know he was like this!"

Some are trapped and might as well explain themselves in the end.

>>2662421
Fuck that he was murdered. He was a constant thorn in the side for politicians, and he was on the verge of something big.

>>2662433
u r dum, u r relly relly dum

>>2662421
I love how he kept journalistic writing conventions even in his suicide note. That man was truly a legend.

Also, here's one off the top of my head (I'm not suicidal and hopefully never will be).

>I'm tired, I'm tired, I'm tired. Tired of this routine. Tired of this monotony. Tired of the sameness and homogeneity, of life and love, of pain, of living. Can't sleep, can't eat; what's the point of living if I don't live?

>>2662433
The government killed JFK too, and faked the moon landing.

>>2659622
>Hunter S. Thompson's suicide note is pretty sad.

No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun – for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax – This won’t hurt.