So after yesterday’s post a few people contacted me to make sure I wasn’t eyeing off tall buildings or bottles of pills.
Me: Apparently my post this morning concerned people and some of them have poked me to say, ‘Are you insane/okay?’
Rick: The suicide post?
Me: Yeah. I don’t know. You talk about hanging yourself as a good idea and everyone starts looking at you funny.
Rick: Maybe you need to add a ‘or maybe not’ to the end of it.
Me: Perhaps I’ll do a follow up post for tomorrow. ‘Its Okay, Folks. Still Alive’.
Rick: ‘No need for concern’ might work better.
So. Officially: No need for concern. Or at least, only the regular kind of concern. I don’t think people are going to stop giving me those sidelong looks just because I tell them to.
It’s just that I’m rather sleep deprived and also a little bit in love with Ernest Hemingway at the moment. And he’s a little bit dark. But I’m actually very, very happy right now. (Except for the not-sleeping thing.) I’m just having a bit of an odd week. Things look stranger when you’re running on a severe sleep debt. On Monday, for instance, my ice cream made me bleed. Well… I don’t actually know what happened. But I went to get ice cream and when I came back I was bleeding.
And now I have a small but angry looking cut on my hand that hurts when I type. So I’m… channeling the pain?
Cause I’m a writer. And writers (like all artists) are weird. And a little bit insane. And occasionally suicidal. (Some of them cut off their ears!) But I’m not. Suicidal, that is. I am weird. And a little bit insane. And… feeling the emotional vibe of what I’m writing. It’s easier to write the dark place when you feel the dark place.
And I’ve been writing about one of my characters who is suicidal. Well… one who is behaving so recklessly it might be considered suicidal, and one who is genuinely depressed enough to behave in such a manner but isn’t, and one who really is sort of suicidal but isn’t doing anything about it for… reasons.
Actually, when I put it like that my books sound a bit worrying. Er… they’re suicidal but they’re funny while doing it? That doesn’t sound any better. Also I now appear to be glorifying suicide as well as alcohol.
Okay. Let me try again. Please ignore everything that might lead you to… conclusions. I’m not really pro-suicide. Or pro unrestrained drinking. (Don’t drink to excess, kids, your liver will thank you. Don’t kill yourself, your… you will thank you.) And the suicidal thing is coincidence. Or youthful melodrama. Or… well I could explain it but there would be spoilers and that would be bad. (Spoilers are worse than death! Worse than life! Worse than no cookies in the cookie jar!)
* So I found out this morning that Arkem was totally unfamiliar with the actual lyrics to the M*A*S*H theme song ‘Suicide is Painless’. In case you find yourself in the same boat (and I’m not sitting next to you with a set of speakers to remedy this) you should click here. Because it’s awesome. Also you should watch M*A*S*H. You know. All of it. Now, for example.