We stared at each other in silence for a long time. And I forced it out. "I... Don't do..." My mouth is quivering but it doesn't matter. She won't do it. Not because it's a sin; not because there's been a cathartic awakening; not because her mother's cries fill her with dread and guilt. In the end, the only one that can save you from the ledge is yourself. And lowering the knife, I tore my glare from my reflection in the mirror, grasping for a tissue and a renewed will to live.
Suck it up, Buttercup
Tell me why
honey, cry on my shoulder
I'm here for you
don't worry, it's true
now toughen up
life is hard, we knew
I don't have it easy
and neither should you
so cry out those thoughts
come out of the blue
they say suck it up, buttercup
that's what you need to do
I'll stay beside you
and the demons I'll shoo
I love you, it's true.❋
Your brokenness is a crown
There would be times that you might think that death is the best solution to end your misery. Believe me, I thought of it too more than once. Everyone might have thought of it too. But hey I just want you to know that life isn't that bad.
The failures, the hatred, the pain, the trials no matter how hard they are or were they have reasons why they're in our lives.
Lack of money, lack of food, lack of shelter, paramours, concubines, lack of love, are some of the most common reasons why one might commit suicide but hey! Those are the most common thing that hurts anyone deeply yet, it's not a good reason to kill yourself.
God has a reason for everything.
Perhaps that someone who left you isn't good for you or it's the way of God saying I loved you then, when you were not even born, why would not I love you now that you're here, why would I not take that someone who is hurting you secretly when I am enough for you and it was proven thousands of years ago, love Me and I'll give you the right one. There are times that God wants our attention yes He is jealous of us. For we love and loved anyone than Him. So the lack of material things isn't a reason to admit suicide dear, it's a reason to love the source of it.
God isn't a bully, He'd let some problems in our lives not to condemn us but to correct us.
If you think you can't be mended anymore it just hurts so much.
Remember a potter creates his masterpiece by pressing the clay to the way he wants it to be, places it inside a kiln that is way too hot for the clay, and checks it religiously, if the clay breaks the potter would take it out of the fire, and smash it until it became a powder and rebuilt it again, place it in the kiln once more, and repeat the process of creating and recreating it until the time when the fire in the kiln cannot destroy the clay anymore. Then the potter would know that the clay he has made is strong enough to face another type of challenge. By the time the clay did not break in the fire the potter would try to break it by smashing it to the ground, and if the clay cracks or chipped the potter would break it again so that he could recreate it again this time, stronger, tougher until the time that nothing ordinary would be able break it even the fury of fire nor the impact of fall. But remember even the most beautiful and strongest thing would one day be worn, be broken once more then you'd know it might be too late for the potter to recreate it the same way as it was before. But remember the potter knows everything about his clay, he might not be able to break it again but he can hold the broken pieces of clay not by another clay but with gold liquid that will serve as its glue, no the pottery would not be the same, the cracks would be permanent but at the same time it would beautify the pottery, it would look different but those cracks, chips, and other damages filled with gold would be it's unique design nothing can be the same like it.
Just like you and me during troubles, we'd break, hurt, cry, die inside but it doesn't mean that our potter would leave us inside the kiln, yes troubles would hurt so does the healing process it would not be easy for we need to be broken to pieces again, everything that's been broken should be in the hands of the potter once more for us to be whole again. Our Potter would not leave us in a situation where He isn't there, ready to take us out if we'd just let Him.
He might not take every scar in our lives just like the cracks in the pottery that have been filled with gold, our scars would be our crown our mark that we've been hurt broken, torn and died but is still alive through Him.
You may have hundreds of reasons to kill yourself, God has endless reasons for you to live.
Run to your potter it isn't too late.
What does your Heart say?
This temporary Retreat...
...Is not a sign of Defeat...
.....Your Heart says: ...Beat, Beat, Beat!
Such is Life
If you die, it's over.
If you commit suicide, it really is the end.
There's a very profound difference between losing your life, and taking it.
Look, I'm agnostic. I don't believe in God, but I don't discount the possibility either.
So let me tell you my reason for not choosing to die.
When the universe seemingly asks me, what the fuck are you doing, it asks me in so many ways.
Ways you might have been demanded to endure, like abuse.
Like things being stolen from you.
Like never having enough.
Like being ignored.
Like losing, and feeling lost.
Like forgetting, and blaming.
Like hurting, and being hurt.
The question runs around, in a vicious cycle, disguised as misfortune.
In its pretense, it tricks you in terms of form.
But always, the question remains the same.
What the fuck are you doing?
Questioning you, to make you question yourself.
To make you wonder, to the extent of choosing to die.
Because whatever the reason, choosing the end means becoming a part of the cycle for someone else.
A question of pain, and suffering, and uncertainty.
That is what you will be remembered for.
So remember this.
As life asks you again and again this question, this unbelievably hard, important question, remember its purpose.
And choose your own.
Whether we're here for some reason beyond us, or not, we are here.
And all we can do is try.
In the face of it all, we try.
And in that way, we kind of defy circumstance.
Saying, fuck it, or fuck you, to our pain.
And our loneliness.
So when life happens to ask me,
What the fuck are you doing?
I say, my best.
Because it is all I can do.
That you, or anyone can do.
Such is life.
Imagine if You Will
Imagine if you will,
A house filled with light,
Small candles everywhere,
Making each room bright.
Each candle is important,
It lights its own spot,
If you loose one,
It will appear as a nasty blot.
The only point of the house,
Is to hold the candles close,
So that they keep each other warm,
All in good company, I s'pose.
As soon as one goes out,
the room loses a little flair,
Another will come up somewhere else,
But without quite the same air.
Each little candle is itself,
In the sense that it is unique,
If a candle goes out,
It can't be relit; this is quite bleak.
All candles must eventually burn out,
This is sad and true,
But there is a time for this to happen,
Don't let it worry you.
Be far more worried about those,
Who decide it isn't worth it,
They take a knife to themselves,
And cut a terrible split.
Their wax drains away,
The wick slowly fades,
The candle can be no more;
Its last song was one of blades.
The candle will surely die,
It is a loss that the others must bare,
To see one of them cut away,
To see it lose its air.
The others will carry the weight,
Thinking they could have done more,
But ultimately it is your choice,
To walk through Death's Door.
Nothing can stop you,
these are just words.
But I would have you listen,
To these feeble snowbirds.
They are trying to help,
Please drop the knife,
Step down from the ledge,
Flush those pills, and live your life.
It will be a great loss,
If your candle dies,
Who will sit with me,
To laugh and munch fries.
You see, it's the small things in life,
That are worth living for,
You're not alone,
Please step away from that Door.
This too shall pass
I don't know you, you don't know me.
The truth is, I've been there myself. Yeah, where you are right now.
Difference being... I was too chicken shit to actually do it.
I still remember that day. It was late morning. I waited until my parents had gone out. Breakfast, or lunch, brunch. You see, back where I came from, eating out was affordable and we did that all the time, day in, day out.
Anyway, I'd been crying my eyes out for a few weeks, and they probably thought I was on the mend. Even if they didn't, it never crossed their minds that I was capable. So, at the ten-minute mark, I made my move.
Kitchen knife, check.
Comfy, clean white sheets... fuck. Mum's going ballistic if she comes home and sees the stains.
This is about the time when I'm paralyzed by thick, sticky, black fear... I look at the shiny blade, shimmering, calling out to me. Daring me.
Obviously, I didn't do it. I'm not as brave as you (I wanted to cut across the tracks, not along... pfft! I was such a rookie).
I will tell you one thing. In that mess of my head, where nothing made sense, and all I wanted to was to stop the pain, I realized one thing: no matter how helpless I felt, or how things have become—I knew that time will heal. It's the one universal certainty, apart from change.
Of course, if you're dead sure about going ahead, no one can stop you. But if you think you'd like to give yourself a chance to see what life could bring, then give yourself that chance. It's difficult, I know. Life is hard. Nothing is easy. But if you get through this, and I know you can, you'll be stronger out from the other end.
So, have a cry. Cry as much as you need. Lean on someone. Lean as hard as you can. Pray if you want, it doesn't have to be God per se, just think of something bigger than you are. Talk to him or her. Or it.
Be thankful. There's always someone worse off than you. It's cliché, but it's true.
I don't know you, but you now know a bit about me. I'm here for you. I've got enough love and kindness for both of us.
Here. I've got some cash. Let's go get some fast food and ice cream.
Come on. My treat.
Mind Over Matter
Don't see yourself through your eyes. See yourself through mine. I mean, who do I run to when I've done something stupid? Who never fails to make me feel better when I had a bad day. Who know the only word that can make me smile and laugh at the same time? I know you're thinking you're hopeless because the people at school treat you like shit but they won't be here in three years. I will. They're irrelevant background noise in your story, and I'm the supporting character. I know I have the tendency to talk about myself too much and to not listen like I should, but I'm here and I'll always be here, even if you have to speak louder to make sure I hear you.
Look, I'm afraid of heights but I'm here on this ledge with you. Even if I fall you and you live, this will be worth it because you're the important one in this. I know you don't like when I talk like that, but to me, it's true. I'd give my last drop of blood to save you just like I know you'd do for me. I'd cut my fingers off wrestling a knife from you and only be mad I can't flick you off with that hand anymore. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, which is why I want you to think in terms of me and not in terms of you. You just see trash but I see the dirtiest diamond ever. I mean seriously, who is going to get my dirty jokes and punch me when I fart in the car?
I know just seeing a tear fall from my eyes worries you because you think I'm the strong one through this, but I feel the same hearing you talk about yourself in such a negative way. I mean, where am I going to get a better brother from another mother? And to replace such a stellar part? I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a paper clip like I almost did in fourth grade. I've never been one to call you out on your bullshit, said no one ever, but this is the worst idea you've ever had. I mean, do you know what will happen to me if you do this? I'm going to do it too and go to the gates of hell, grab you by the neck, and strangle you until the devil needs to put on a coat.
Can't you see that this is killing me? I mean, I love you. Not in the way your ex-girlfriend was supposed to, but as someone I can't fathom being romantic with because I don't want to lose you as my friend. I would rather lose my sense of taste (and you know how I love to eat) than see you be in pain. Please, put the knife down. Let me clean you up and let's go watch Family Guy. I can't lose you. You're the most important thing in the world to me.
The End? No, just the beginning.
It was Saturday night when I heard my phone ring. I dove across the bed to unplug it. My best friend's photo showed on the screen and I answer.
"H-hey." He replied, his voice shaky.
I begin to worry, he's never been like this. "Is everything okay?"
"N-no. Skye, I just wanted to call and thank you."
"Thank me? For what?"
"For being my friend. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I can't be strong. They're screaming so loud Skye."
"Who's screaming? Arch?"
"I can't do this Skye. I can't live with them."
"Arch, talk to me."
"They're screaming so loud. They're right. They know me better than I know myself."
"Arch, listen to me. They're not right. Whatever they're telling you, ignore them. You are an amazing person and I'd be lost without you. Arch, you know what happened to my cousin, right? How he killed himself and I wasn't the same for weeks? Well... if you did that it would be years. You may think that it's the best idea in the world right now, but it's not. I've been in your shoes. And I'm glad that I didn't do something that would bring harm to my friends. If I had gone through with it, I never would have met you. I hate to tell you this now, I wish it were under better circumstances, but I love you Arch. Arch, right now this may seem like something huge, but in a month or so it's not going to seem as big as it does now. It'll be something small. There are people who love you here. Your siblings, parents, friends, and me. God if I were to lose you I wouldn't be myself ever again. Arch, I need you in my life."
I don't know how long I droned on, but it kept him from dying. It kept him from killing himself that night. He was my best friend and I couldn't lose him. Was that the end? No, it was just the beginning, but in the end, it was worth it. Being there for him that night was worth it.
It is not worth the bother of killing yourself. You kow why?
- because you always kill yourself too late.