Wake me up when September Ends

Last Wednesday the girlfriend of our classmate died. She was found dead on her bed with her mouth frothing. Rumors of suicide immediately circulated. The family requested for an autopsy but is mum about the result. The boyfriend, our classmate is clueless about the real cause of death since he’s away in Singapore. But he said on chat yesterday that she seemed okay and that they were doing okay and that they just talked two weeks ago. He’s really grieved by the death esp. coz he can’t return home due to work and financial constraints. Her death saddens me coz even though I only met her once she’s still young and I’m sure have a promising future ahead. Too bad about the rumors of her death and too bad that she brought whatever ails her heart or body to her grave. I just hope that she’s in a better place right now.

Her death also got me thinking about suicide. Admittedly there were times in my life that I contemplated it. First was when I failed a subject back in college, it was my first time and it felt like the end of the world for me. Another was when I broke up with my bf and my period got delayed. Looking back now I can only laugh at my childishness. However during those times I know that I can’t do it. I’m too scared of damnation and pain and I love my family too much. I wasn’t brave or weak enough to do it. Though killing oneself is a sign of weakness, I believe that it actually takes a lot of guts to do it. To pull that trigger, swallow that pill, slash that wrist, and jump off that chair or building. Guts or maybe it’s just plain emotional or mental instability coupled with chemical imbalances. I wanted to share some thoughts on suicide but I ended up making a mockery of it with advices like “Just do it” that’s why I decided to borrow some thoughts instead. Here’s something from the book Veronika Decides to die by Paulo Coelho. It’s about a 24 year old girl who decided to kill herself but the book is more than story about suicide. It also talked of madness, life and love.

That is why embittered people find heroes and madmen a perennial source of fascination, for they have no fear of life or death. Both heroes and madmen are indifferent to danger and will forge ahead regardless of what other people say. The madman committed suicide, the hero offered himself up to martyrdom in the name of a cause, but both would die, and the embittered would spend many nights and days remarking on the absurdity and the glory of both. It was the only moment when the embittered person had the energy to clamber up his defensive walls and peer over at the world outside, but then his hands and feet would grow tired and he would return to daily life.

Note: The title again hasn’t got anything to do with this post but it got something to do with the date today and my wish that I might wake up from this stupor that I’m in right now and be able to be more coherent in my thoughts in the coming months Oh BTW, I changed my “blog music” to another song from Damien, Cannonball.