Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Famous last words from the boy who kept crying suicide.

How to make friends in LA: Episode 1



The dark passenger was back. Sat and lingered. The type of haunting that they say don’t exist and is over medicated. It scared me. I knew I wasn’t that strong to fight it again.

Most people New year’s resolution begins January 1st. Mine began on April’s fools day. Quit that job the voice in my head said. It was perfect. I figured everyone would think I was joking. I was in grad school ready to finish a MBA in accounting. Still failing the first step of AA, holding myself accountable.

I had decided that I wanted to be a comedian. The last time I was that drunk, I wanted to be stripper. I laughed so fucking loud at the bus stop, the homeless guy in whom I was sharing a cheap bottle of corner store liquor thought I was the crazy one. I told him, I changed my mind. I wasn’t going to kill myself. And I was going to stop paying those willing prostitutes two hundred dollars a night to yell at them how much I hated my mother.

But it was clear the dark passenger was back. Sat and lingered. The last time I ended up in the hospital from a futile attempt of slashing my arms. I just liked the healing process. And I learned, the funny thing about suicide, afterwards, anything is possible. Yet, I know with suicide there is so many times you can threatened with it before no one believes you. I say don’t fail. I say bullet to the head. No notes. Just fucking do it. Make it permanent. Because I knew if I failed again, it was not going to be as easy again to say I didn’t mean it. Nobody really wants to die. I mean really die. They just want to be able to start over.

So I decided to commit a social suicide. Walk away from everything I knew. I was happy there anymore.

So I awoke on April’s fool’s day and booked a flight to Los Angeles. I figured it was better than spending another month of my life in a psych ward until they felt I was better again. It started to feel like that I was always getting better but never cured.

I called into work that April’s fool morning, told them I wasn’t coming in, that I had booked a plane to LA to become a comedian. I told them go fuck themselves. I figured they laugh. It was a joke. I called my sister, left the same message. I packed a bag, left a check for the rent for my roommate and went to the airport.

The plan, there was no plan. I figure it out.

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