Suicide






It is a masochism to pursue subjects we have no talent in.

Perhaps some people have neither talent nor love for life.

True, it does not seem to be a particularly difficult or rare talent------but considering spelling for the dyslexic or even sight for the blind. Those who can see, simply open their eyes and see.
They hardly think of it. But for the blind-----they may comfort themselves with sound, braille, various technological whims---but they cannot see.

The sensual aspect of lightening will never be experienced. Similarly, for certain people, the sensual aspect of life cannot be experienced. The taste, the sight, the pungency-----this evades them. Logically, philosophically, ethically, they will be given information that states reasons why an individual must stay alive.

But to see it with one's own eyes, to feel it in the mouth, the dizzying exuberance of life on the skin---perhaps they are incapable of it. I am incapable of it. Perhaps I have been poisoned by the mind.

For instance, the only time I sense life is when I have finished a long illness. Thus, life, for me, is simply an absence of sickness.

The breath of God is intricate----An acknowledgement of despair and arrogance. But if our life is not even our own, what is ours?


Why do you demand so much?
What else could keep me from the one I love?



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