| om självmord |
23 jun 12 |
“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.”
— David Foster Wallace |
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23 jun 12 |
"jag hade ett bra dagar, i alla fall" säger jag. Men det är ju inte sant. Jag hade inga bra dagar, jag hade bara dagar där jag inte mådde skit. Men det gjorde jag ju också.
Vet inte varför jag ljuger för mig själv.
En del dagar är bättre än andra, men det finns inga bra dagr.
Var tar jag vägen?
Jag ler, skrattar, studsar.
Men inombords... det är bara hopplöst. Varför ens försöka?
Få jag snälla snälla ge upp? |
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| Bloggkalender |
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