
Another one of my friends killed himself this
week. The death toll is up to five suicides in three years.
And counting. No need for you to say you're sorry. Nothing
you could have done.
More than feeling sad I feel furious. I want to scream and yell
like a motherfucker. But I can't. Metaphorically my hands
are duct-taped to my sides. And there is a gag around my
mouth. And my face is being pushed into the dirt so violently I
am barely able to breathe. I'm left with a sound we never seem to
be able to get used to: silence. I am a bottle and I am
compressing a ferocious and passionate silence.
Us Americans sure like noise don't we? Noisy cities. Noisy
clubs. Noisy coffee shops. Most people I know avoid silence
all costs. And I do too. Here I sit in front of a computer
until I am no longer able to hold my head up. I will fall into
bed exhausted without the terror of laying coherent solely with my
thoughts. Once upon a time I slept with many men in order to
avoid the scary emptiness of those bleak and human-less 4 o'clock
A.M.s. Eventually I found the behavior of most of these men so
vile and despicable I am now unable to enjoy their soulless bodies.
I fear that we have been programmed to be optimists to the point that
we are unable to process and acknowledge depression. This has led
to a lot of recent inner-turmoil and conflict. What my intuition
is telling me is much different than what almost everyone I know is
telling me. It's as if my eyes are seeing steel gray but most
everyone I know is insisting I see pink. I fear I have lost my ability
to differentiate color.
But when I eat at my favorite restaurants many of the booths are empty.
There was room to move on the dance floor at a club that is usually
packed shoulder to shoulder. My once modest apartment complex is
further falling to disrepair. My mother is putting her rent on
credit cards and it takes more than one hand to count the people I know
whose houses are going into foreclosure. Down the street from me
there's a cute Mexican eatery. Two years ago the parking lot was
at capacity but when I drove by a month ago there was a grown man with
a mask and sombrero trying to lure in business. Their parking lot
was empty on a Friday night. I had to pull over. I started
crying.
Perhaps the most recent evolution of our species is the "it's getting
better" reflex. Much like our gag reflex prevents us from choking
perhaps the "it's getting better" reflex prevents us from acknowledging
painful and serious truths. I am convinced that if the entire
city I live in went out of business there would be some asshole
proclaiming that things are indeed getting better, it just takes
time. I am allowing myself the freedom to be scared as fuck of
these uncertain times. I am allowing myself the freedom to say
that I think things are going to get worse.
Has anyone noticed the social climate's weariness and indifference
towards sincere expressions of sadness and fear? Does anyone else
realize the danger of reducing true angst to "being emo" and the damage
that telling someone to "just get over it and cheer up" can
cause? More often than not it seems these days that people
respond to heartfelt emoting with sarcasm or humor. To avoid the
snickering and jabbing often provoked by a so-called pessimistic
expression sensitive people often choose to shut up and bury. Had
my friend who killed himself last week posted "the world is really
painful to me right now" as his facebook status how would we have
reacted? Unfortunately I fear he would have had to deal
with the same "just cheer ups" "go get wasteds" "life's not so bads"
and "quit being so emos" that I've encountered countless times.
We are social beings who are very capable of experiencing highs and
triumphs together. So why the inability to fully embrace and
understand our lows? Something that is buried still lurks under
the dirt and sweeping away only moves dust from one spot to
another. What will your reply be when I say that I truly
fear our country and society are in trouble...even beyond the economic
crisis? Will you invalidate my fear? Will you
want to sit down and talk about it or will you tell me to "just dance"?
Lately I have been cutting down the noise. I lay in bed and battle the
clarity of the things I think before I sleep. I find the idea of
going to a club and engaging in escapist and pseudo-friendly behaviors
repugnant. No, I really don't need to go out and just have a good
time. On the contrary I think people could benefit from staying home
and building a relationship with themselves. Or talking with a
friend one on one. Modern technology has given us the ability to
communicate like never before while at the same time depersonalizing
communication. Does anyone else recognize the danger of
this? Isn't it telling that there are no protest songs in the top
40?
I have witnessed a lot of people moving in the last six months. As the
recession casts its gloomy cloud people are running. Some towards
the noise and some away from it. I choose to stand still and
silently observe.
If I won a beauty pageant I would not wish for world peace. I
would not wish to end world hunger. I would wish for human beings
to repress less and express more. I will go first: I am
extremely lonely lately. I am confused and uncertain about nearly
everything I once held true. I question the validity of art,
music, friendship, culture, and love. I have an eerie feeling
about the future of our country and our society.
On behalf of anyone expressing fear, sadness, anger, or emotion I ask
that you are receptive - not dismissive or condescending. I
ask that you don't make a joke or say something ironic. I'm not
laughing right now. I ask that you don't tell me I'm wrong or
that I should feel differently than I do. There is no wrong or
right.
2009 is a frightening year. I will say it out loud. And I
will also say that my five friends who killed themselves should all
still be alive. I am angry and sad that they weren't brave enough
to talk. But unfortunately I understand exactly why they
didn't.
In honor of my friends' lives I have uninhibitedly expressed myself
tonight. And now what I really want to know is...how are
you?
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