Followers

Mighty Jacksparrow is an Earth-based sub-intergalactic blogger who enjoys writing and in the same time entertaining his ever-amusing will-kill-to-read fans with sensationally hilarious and at times dramatic musings. This blog offers endless ideas and results; they might be charming most of the times but could be offending in some others. Therefore, it is always noble to remind that if you enjoy the pieces, carry on reading, but if they upset you, do quietly leave like the evening breeze and not like exploding diarrhea, which exactly what you will look like if you ever lose it on me. Enjoy! :D

Sunday, November 28, 2010

The Rain, Being Suicidal and How Frank Got It In The Face


It's post #700.

As this post is written, it is raining heavily outside my window. The wind blow slowly into this small space guarded by four col, sky-protruding walls I call a room, my room. The lights are all off, giving some sort of melancholic atmosphere to the surrounding. Not a sound is heard but those of the drops of rain hitting everything they are falling onto, at this very particular moment. Stands in front of me a cup of steamy hot coffee, black and sugared to perfection. Next to it is a box of cigarettes, filtered, filled with diced fine Virginian tobacco mixed with some other things that somewhat give the cigarette a very strong taste with major hint of Turkish blend. This taste I like very much, hence the reason why one of the cigarettes is smoldering slowly, hanging steadily in between my lips.

The rain observed from the pantry's window.

By nature, the weather this particular evening gives this very peculiar feeling; a subtle mix of calmness, stillness and peacefulness. The sorts of feelings that soothe one down, and put him at ease. How spectacular, this feeling is. And this smell, the sweet smell that lingers around my nose, refreshingly original and royal. The smell of wet rocks and freshly-trimmed green grasses and the smell of fresh water hang in the air, blanketing me with this strange but joyful and memorable sensation of being perfectly alive. 

Speaking of being alive, I have met recently some of the most suicidal people I have ever known this entire 25 years (and counting, God bless me) of my life. Some of them are better, some of them are worst and the rest of them are still at stake to fall into any of the previously-mentioned states. There were various reasons for their suicidal state, but mostly in my eyes were just being too confused and lost, not knowing exactly what to do, to which disappointment and giving up follow. They were just tired of life and just how things were going, so they decided to end it.

Human, being the only living thing that could contemplate on suicide and carry it out, live on very complex lives everyday. It is easy to spot on the similarities in between two people, for example me and you - we eat, we sleep, we drink and we shit - but lives are not defined as easily as that. People do not see the oftentimes hidden detailed in each specific person's life that make him or her different to another. Per se, there could not be a person who lives perfectly similar like you do, every little day. Therefore, despite the advance understanding in human psychology, there are still spots that experts still do not fully understand, especially in the context of suicide. 

I was once in this state, sometime back.

I was depressed, the exact word to define my state then, on all over too many things. But mostly it wasn't the depression that drove me into being suicidal. Nihilism did. According to the Wikipedia; 

"Nihilism is the philosophical doctrine suggesting the negation of one or more meaningful aspects of life. Most commonly, nihilism is presented in the form of existential nihilism which argues that life is without objective meaning, purpose, or intrinsic value. Moral nihilists assert that morality does not inherently exist, and that any established moral values are abstractly contrived. Nihilism can also take epistemological, metaphysical or ontological forms, meaning respectively that, in some aspect, knowledge is not possible or that contrary to our belief, some aspect of reality does not exist as such."

In short, I found out that this life has no particular purpose, which later I learned that is a common traits in those who "knew too much" relative to everybody else of specific common grounds. I didn't know too much back then nor I knew too much now, but relatively I could say that as compared to those my age surrounding me I could be knowing just way too much. This is of course not way too much of a bragging, nor it could be any tips of self-acclaiming wonder. This is a fact and perhaps I could explain about it a little bit from hereon.

I read a lot of philosophical books written by many philosophers dating back to the age of the Romans, and they stated life differently in their publications, sometimes crossing each other in the matter. Apart from the usual science-related readings, I then got myself involved in philosophical science and arguments and discussions with my closely-related mates who have the exact same way of how I think followed. The works of Hemingway and Boltzmann and fellow suicidal others contributed to the effects of me to rethink about life and how things were going. 

At this point, don't preach to me about religion(s), and don't you ever say to me that none of you who are reading this never in the past contemplated on ending your life pretty quickly over some delusional matters. 

People come and go telling just how beautiful this life is, and alas, how surprising it is to see just how they break down one day and blaming it all on life. This is nothing purely uncommon; I'm pretty sure you have seen all these all the times. All around you people are popping sleeping pills, tying rope knots on the house beams and driving off the cliffs. These are not the people whom we know are perfectly disturbed since they first started breathing using their lungs in this world. They are just common people like everybody else, like me and you. But nihilism brings them to an end of no return, and perhaps as we speak there are at least some people who are doing the aforementioned, and succeeded.

Life is a terrible thing that ever going to happen to a person. Life is no hanky-panky, yakety-yak kind of funfair where all are fun and entertaining. Life is as murderous as it is torturous. People ask you to go around and seek the beauty that life can ever offer: fall in love, go nature, play in the rain, whatsoever. And you did. And when you failed in love, you saw how nature was broken down, you slipped in the rain and your head knocked on the concrete drain, whatsoever, and then you started to realize that, damn it, life isn't as beautiful. You get a couple of these things every now and then building up in you, and soon you will see yourself looking at the road to nowhere. 

I broke the chains that placed me in life-breaking moments sometime after that, most probably a year or so until I finally see something that could make myself put aside the thoughts of being a nihilist. I saw that at the end of the day, everyone has to be alive to keep the world running, regardless their level of unhappiness, since to me everyone is unhappy. So we just gotta do what we gotta do and die when the time comes, and someone else will either continue or recreate what appears to us as our own history. 

So until that day come, we might just as well sit down and shut up.


* * *


Circa 2006;

I was in the middle of this conversation in between two of the greatest minds I ever knew. Let's call them Frank and Paulie for confidential purposes. They just met for the first time. Paulie was a senior manager while Frank was a project manager with a big mouth, both foreigners.

Paulie: So Frank, tell me about your work.
Frank: Well I'm an engineer, working at a firm with big projects coming up, and I get paid like ten grand a month. 
Paulie: You married?
Frank: I am, to such a wonderful and beautiful wife the world can ever imagine (his wife was a model) and I have a pair of kids I will never be able to buy with my worldly possessions. 
Paulie: So tell me where you live, and what car you drive.
Frank: By the bay, good man Paulie, I live by the bay. In a beach-side villa that my wife and I bought together, overlooking the open sea where we can see beautiful sunsets everyday while we hang out at the lawn with the kids playing in our sights. And I drive a Mercedes, a posh C-class.

At this point, Paulie rubbed both his hands and clamped them together on the table, smiling while looking at it. The discussion was in pause for a while, until Paulie opened his mouth again.

"So tell me, Frank," he said while nodding his head, his lips still smiling. "Are you happy?"

Frank's face changed and he never said a single word after that, his eyes looked far beyond the horizon of time as if he was thinking deeply. He committed suicide in 2007.

3 comments:

i am mai said...

nihilism, huh? don't see much of them around here, professing to be one.

also, hemingway?

and, of what particular philosophical books you read back then?

this is ironic.

Mighty Jacksparrow said...

Worst, I dont even get half of what you were saying.

i am mai said...

ah, okay, whatever then.