So he took his life. Sounds wonderful. Sounds beautiful. Sounds like he actually did something with his life.
Yeah, take it.
But that was actually the result of a decision, right? He was doing something – acting …
Suicide’s a beautiful idea. Imagine it: a suicide not from despair, but from joy. The joy of meeting the end. The joy of not having to live any longer. The joy of suiciding out of joy. Not sadness, not depression. Nothing medicalizable.
See, I think the best thing would be doing it out of fucking freedom. Doing it for NO REASON. Doing it because you’re tired of having REASONS for everything. Tired of REASONING THINGS OUT. Tired of life being reduced to REASONING THINGS OUT.
So why don’t you do it?
I’m happy he’s done it. I want to contemplate it. I want to think about it. I want to turn it over in my head. His act … As freedom. As perfect freedom.
What’s WRONG with you? What’s wrong with us, talking like this. Talking about this?
We’ve got too much time … We’ve had too much education … We’ve read too many books …
Look, there’s so much shame, isn’t there? In just continuing. The Organisational Management move is only part of it. It just makes it clear: the general farce. The general stupidity of going on. Of getting more and more entangled. More wrapped up in all the nonsense.
There’s a way out. There’s a way fucking OUT! There’s a way of cutting through the fucking Gordian knot!
I’m tired of living on their terms. At their fucking sufferance. I want to die on my own. I want to shut their world OUT … I’ve never been more certain of anything. I’ve never been clearer about anything. It’s not a defeat, it’s a victory. It’s a way of winning. I want to win.
I can’t fight! I can’t suffer these humiliations! It’s quite impossible. I’d throw myself from one of the new Organisational Management campus towers right now, if I could. That would show them. That’s how I’d reveal the truth of the new Organisational Management campus …
Ha! Look at me, I’m fucking glorious! I’m fucking exalted! This is it! This is my fucking peak! It’s beautiful! I feel so DEFIANT! Maybe I’ll start a movement. Maybe there’ll be a million youth suicides. Would that be a good thing? It’d be a protest. Against nihilism. Against meaninglessness. Against THEIR world. Aren’t we tired of THEIR world. Of their fuck ups. Of what they’ve done.
A suicide should be a vacuum. Should be a little break in the ceaseless communication, in the ceaseless stupidity. But that’s not what would happen. Stupidity abhors a vacuum, right?
They’ll explain it away. They’ll blame it on depression. On personal matters. They’ll rob you of the glory. The whole making yourself sacred thing. The whole sacrificing yourself thing.
So they would, the fuckers.
Who’s going to join me?
So you want a suicide pact now? Fuck. No chance.
Someone’s got to die. It’s got to happen tonight. Now.
No one’s going to die. No one ever dies. We’ll live long, long lives.
We’ve no control over our lives, right? We’re reeling … all the time. One thing and then a-fucking-nother. And all of it absurd. More and more absurd. So we need control over our deaths.
Some fucking insubordination. Some rebellion of angels. Some angelic revolt.
I don’t want to mean. I don’t want to be part of the meaningful world. There’s too much meaning … did you ever think that?
Or there’s the wrong meaning. That’s it, isn’t it? That the true meaning has been overlain by the false. By pseudo meaning.
No, there’s too much meaning. It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or false.
Work in Progress 