You were born on Gandhi's birthday. So was my grandma, and she's his polar opposite... Anyway, you are a mere 6 months older than I, and I want you to know that I sincerely hope you are still alive. Given the chance, I would get to know you. Maybe we could even help each other out. It's the only thing that keeps me here... I really don't know what I'm trying to say. I'd write you a poem but I'm not inspired right now. I didn't even know you, yet I mourn your loss... Another of my kindred, fallen, at her own hand. To anyone who ever wants to talk, even just to share your experience with someone before the end, feel free to email me. I want to take on the weight of your problems, in comparison mine feel so small... I am close to the edge, won't you please push me over? I can smell the foul air of the thousands below. I can feel the warm breath of my death coming closer, sense the way out of this hell that I know. But I in myself am to weak to go jumping, I in my weakness am fearful to fall. So please won't you push me, adrenaline pumping, so soon I can get to the end of it all? This was a random rant. I'll not post it. I'll put it in my sitdiary instead... ........................................... This was inspired by a suicide note the from suez-cide.tripod.com archive. Number 1807... It's a great place for the suicidal to go, and leave a note. Even if you don't intend to do it... I've left 10 or 15 of them on there... Now for the real entry, in ps form. PS. No one commented on my last entry. And I thought it was good. Sad. PPS. Everyone's coupled up except me, and I'm in a really complicated situation about it. In related news, Morgan got drunk today. Pissed me off. PPPS. I don't remember what I was going to say. I feel stupid.