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Written By: Kaptain DTSW


Call me Ezekiel, for suicide is the Devil's incarnate.

I am the hermit who climbed the tower of death; only, for justice to spin it's wheel of fortune, and fill my strength with moonlight. A devil at 16, but a fool at 12; my experience of the world turned me into an emperor that guides the chariot of the damned. I am a lover to suicide, and a temperance to fate. Hierophant to the lost, yet a magician to depression; the, high priestess gave birth to a hanged man living among the stars. Seven nobles given five blades, five vessels given no stave; I, survived the Devil's incarnate.


It was 3 years ago I took my life, and it was 3 days from now that I may be able to tell my story. Upon the bridge of the gilded gate I stood to see an ocean sky much more vast, than the stars will ever reach. An ocean of concrete that would sing to me a symphony of peace. Standing alongside the barricade, I close my eyes and feel happiness for the first time. I listen to the ocean's calm melody as my body begins to sleep; letting go, I fall into the moonlight of an ocean sky. My body glides along the everlasting wind, plummeting to a liquid grave. A life of torment flashes before my eyes. Into my vision there are attacks, assaults, and a child only known as the great depression.


I would pick myself up, only to be picked on once again. A mortality where I was falsely accused of crime, and unfairly tried for rape. With a face that only a mother could love, even she disowned me from her existence. A prison I could only name school, and criminals I can only name classmates; education, is a brainwashed technique to dehumanize our civilization. A.D.D weakens the mind, as cancer weakens the body; artificial flavors ruin our food, and media ruins our entertainment. Life itself is the great depression.


...


I dive into the ocean sky, and I part the bay by spreading my wings. I glide among the sea, only to see a starch image of life's mortality. There I see children, they laugh, they play. With smiles on their face, and hearts full of grace. There they run, each going to their parents. Except for William Parrks, his fate was aberrant. Parents separated, he lives with his father; I know his pain, I never had a mother. It wasn't divorce that made her run, but a bullet to the head from a mugger's gun. It must be hard to see your parent die, but does it feel worse when they hurt you and lie?


Here I see a businessman, successful and rich; but when he goes home, his wife is a bitch. With enough money to buy the country, he tries and tries and tries, but can not satisfy his honey. She yells at him, she beats him, she treats him like a slave. Is it worth being rich, for your heart to be depraved?


There I see a woman, she's sitting in a chair; reading a book, she doesn't have a care. She reads and reads, with her finger on the page; she proceeds to stand up, and I am left in rage. She's blind, she can't see, she walks with a cane; three muggers attack her, and they do something insane. She screamed for help as they had their way; they raped this poor woman, how… how is this okay? People stood, people watched, they all did nothing; they pointed and laughed, how can they be so disgusting? She got up, she continued to walk, with tears in her eyes. A jerk trips her, she cracked her head, and that's where she dies. She died! She died, and nobody cared! She died. She died… and nobody dared.


A man with autism was denied a job; a woman who's deaf, she was robbed. There was a homeless man, he was a Vietnam vet; he lays there begging for money, with his dying service pet. There was a teen, she was an orphan; living with her boyfriend, she got an abortion. When she was pregnant he kicked out out; getting the procedure was her only route. Here I see a man, who's medical bills eat up his paycheck; here I see a cancer patient, paraplegic, each story worse than the next. People suffer much more than me; yet, look at their faces, they're all happy. There the homeless vet smiles, with every nickle he's given; what is it that keeps him so driven? There the cancer patient laughs, living each day as his last; He's happy, he's smiling, his joy is contrast.


I'm not homeless, I'm not ill; I'm just a high school student, who went overkill. I was bullied, I had no mom but- that was it. No diseases, no starvation, none of it. I have a house, I have a bed, I even have a best friend; sure he's a dog, but time with him I love to spend. I gave it all up. Why? What for? My body drowns further off the shore. Please God, please! Don't let my death advance! Please God, please! Give me a second chance...

...

3 years ago, I jumped off the golden state bridge. 3 days ago, I awoke from a coma. Every day I look out my window to the tower of death, and I grin with a tear to my eye. Many are not given a second chance at life. Many don't realize how happy they truly are. Many take for granted the privileges they ignore. I may have broken my spine, but I have a healed spirit. Call me Ezekiel, for suicide is the Devil's incarnate.

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