WHY SUICIDE IS A MISTAKE

1967 -1994

I can still remember when I first heard that Kurt Cobain had taken his own life. I went into a deep state of  mourning that lasted for a solid month. Why? He had great talent, a young child, and a wife that wanted to see him more alive than dead (many people argue this point - I don't agree with any of the conspiracy theories about Courtney Love). To each his own.

What I will always miss most about Kurt is the music: He still had plenty of new songs he could have written in the future, but there is no future once you have offed yourself.

I know he was in a lot of pain (his music made that clear). But I wonder what might have happened if he could only have given life another month or two?

The best tribute to Kurt on the internet is by the author of THE BASKETBALL DIARIES - Jim Carroll. He fought his own demons during his youth, but managed to hang in there as best he could. He wrote more songs and books. He wrote some great poetry. He did not become a member of the 27 club. I just wish Kurt could have known how much he was appreciated and loved by many: This is true for all people that leave the world much too soon.

Poem Copyright by Jim Carroll

Essay Copyright 2018 by Dylan Mitchell

WHAT I'M LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW: JIM CARROLL'S POEM FOR KURT COBAIN

ELIZABETH HARTMAN

Alone in a room
Dreaming of love in the park
Wide open window

Copyright 2018 by Dylan Mitchell

VOW OF SILENCE ENDED: WHAT'S UP WITH FACEBOOK?

I don't get the popularity of Facebook or Twitter. It's all links (no original poetry or writing), and the same thing is going on with the aftermath of the 2016 election. Ten words or less, and we're supposed to believe the intelligence and sincerity of people that don't want (or care) to invest the time in composing a meaningful post?

How much easier to click on a link that makes little or no sense? This is sad. Does anybody do any actual research anymore? Oh, and the whole "Friends" issue: I seem to recall reading a Facebook post about a a fortysomething depressed woman that stated she was going to kill herself.

Guess what, people. Even though she had hundreds of  Facebook "Friends" - she was encouraged to take her own life. Which she ultimately did.

Jesus Christ on a cracker:  I think I'll stay at Blogger. At least I'll be able to stay alive. At least I hope so.

ROBIN WILLIAMS: 1951 - 2014

You made the world laugh
While death tortured you inside
The belt was too tight


Haiku © 2015 by Dylan Mitchell

YOU HAD A HEART...

So they bullied you
You did not leap, Rebecca
They made you fall down

Haiku © 2013 by Dylan Mitchell

VAN GOGH’S CROWS

If I should die
as the sun sets
and the crows fly

will you forget me?
If I should die
as my blood drips

and the saints cry
will you remember me?
After the paint's dry

and the critics lie
and the crows die
will you forget me?

After I die
and a new sunrise
and the crows fly

will you remember me?

Poem © 2009 by Dylan Mitchell

NUMB

Kurt put a shotgun in his
beautiful mouth: A century
before, Van Gogh's crows
scattered south when

they heard the blast from
a gun pointed at his own
unhappy heart. People put
sunflowers on his pauper's

grave. Hemingway and Brautigan
also used a gun. To save
themselves from writer's block—
ending their last sentence with

a bullet: a hole in the page
of life. But Sylvia chose to
kneel before her tiny gas oven:
one last prayer after all the rage

was written out of her. And Ariel
made her name. While Anne chose to
die in her garage. As she sat
in her car, with the engine

running. Wearing her mother's coat:
something to bring her luck, as she
gambled with Mr. Death. Wanting to
die. Hoping he would win.

They did not rage against the dying
of the light. But welcomed darkness
like an old friend. So if Dylan
Thomas was right—does that make them

insane or dumb? Or too weary to fight?
Sick of the world's beautiful lie.
Afraid of dawn with its terrible light:
Too battered and numb. No tears left to cry.

Poem © 2009 by Dylan Mitchell

DEATH BECOMES THEM

That's the title of the book I finished reading late last night. It's all about famous and infamous suicides. Everybody's in it: Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Vincent van Gogh, Diane Arbus, Hemingway, Freud, Hitler, Kurt Cobain, Elliott Smith, Abbie Hoffman, etc. The author is Alix Strauss.

I know a depressed person should not be reading books about suicide. However, the book is wickedly morbid and oddly witty. One might even call it entertaining. How the author managed it, I'll never know. The woman is a genius. So I am not entirely to blame.

In truth, I'm grateful to have discovered this book. Suicide is a subject I have always been deeply curious about. However, I'm not terribly fond of academic books (I dropped out of college for very good reasons). Apart from The Savage God (a classic study of suicide, written by A. Alvarez), I was bored to death by everything I got my greedy little hands on. How can suicide ever be boring? That's what I wanted to know.

But now we have: DEATH BECOMES THEM. And it's an insightful page turner. I was hooked from the start. If you are curious about famous and notorious suicides, then this book deserves a long peek.

Resume

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

- Dorothy Parker

Nonfiction
Harper Paperback Original, 2009

Reader Rating: 9 /10

Review © 2011 by Dylan Mitchell