My Suicide Note

I know bridges, links of destruction to insanity- ‘Seun Ige.

Dear everybody,

          This would be the last time any of you would hear from me. And since it is going to be the last, I feel I have to make a few things clear before taking my life as it is. I will in the process try as much as possible not to give you any gory detail about how my life sucks.

          Since taking your life or murdering yourself, as the case may be, is a personal decision, I will try as I humanly can to not make suicide an attractive option for as many of you as are or that would go through what I, personally, am encased and trapped in.

          Life or fate is not to blame for this decision I am making. It is a decision I am making with my faculties intact. Those around me can testify to that. I just concluded a very intellectual discussion with a friend, I guess that should tell you that I still am in control of my reasoning and decision-making facilities. Life is not to blame. I just can’t go on living the way I am.

          I have too much questions with no answers. I am bored of this whole charade of living held down by shackles of what is expected of me by a hypocritical society-YOU. I was told the GOOD are rewarded while the BAD are punished. I was lied to, obviously. The ‘bad’ have everything I don’t have-money, sex, women and fame. I, still, am here, a voice, screaming to be heard amidst the noisy din of a punk rock gig. No one listens.

Is this what living is supposed to be? Sleeping, waking, walking, wooing, rebuffed, writing, condemned, reading, speaking, typing, hoping, hoping and hoping? Is this what it is? Chatting, flirting, seeking, searching, texting, tweeting, trusting, thrusting, writing, hoping, hoping? Too much unanswered questions-

·        Is there a God?

·        Why do babies die?

·        Why do little pre-pubescent girls, who have done no wrong, get raped and killed?

·        Why am I thinking of murdering me?

·        Why do the bad get all the good?

·        Is there a heaven or hell?

·        Would I be allowed into any of them were I to kill myself?

·        If there is no hell, was it concocted to keep us good? (If yes, it hasn’t done its job?)

·        Why can’t I say what I think without being looked at as weird?

·        Why can’t I express my desire for sex without being told, ‘oh that’s crude!’ by those who do the do?

·        Is suicide a crime?

·        Where do manic depressive women go when they commit suicide? Heaven, hell or somewhere in between?

·        Are Alzheimer patients rewarded for good and evil deeds performed when they lose their memories?

·        Why do people never listen?

·        Why do people never learn?

·        Why are people so ignorant and easily deceived?

I can’t go on anymore. It ends in 15 minutes. Just in case I told you I loved you when I lived, I lied, I wanted something else (dead men don’t lie, you know?). I am not sorry I’m doing this (you should heave a sigh of relief with me gone. At least you won’t have to shake your head and say, ‘Rolands! You can never change’ when I do the me). I am only sorry I’ll be leaving without paying some of the debts I owe-money, kisses, bottles of beer, favours and sex.

                                                                                                Bye,

Rolands.

PS- I hate candle light processions, RIP facebook pages and a host of other ish.

NB: my laptop I leave to my brother, Venatus, let him do what he wants with its content; my books, the ones on varying topics should be given out; my handwritten poems and short stories should be burnt (My handwriting is bad, anyways).

Enjoy your eternal Robben Island!