Suicide Is Painless

Lyrics to the song "Suicide is Painless"
Music by Johnny Mandel ~ Lyrics by Mike Altman

Through early morning fog I see
visions of the things to be
the pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see...

[REFRAIN]:

That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.

I try to find a way to make
all our little joys relate
without that ever-present hate
but now I know that it's too late, and...

[REFRAIN]

The game of life is hard to play
I'm gonna lose it anyway
The losing card I'll someday lay
so this is all I have to say.

[REFRAIN]

The only way to win is cheat
And lay it down before I'm beat
and to another give my seat
for that's the only painless feat.

[REFRAIN]

The sword of time will pierce our skins
It doesn't hurt when it begins
But as it works its way on in
The pain grows stronger...watch it grin, but...

[REFRAIN]

A brave man once requested me
to answer questions that are key
is it to be or not to be
and I replied 'oh why ask me?'

[REFRAIN]

'Cause suicide is painless
it brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.
...and you can do the same thing if you please.

http://www.mash4077.co.uk/theme.html


*******
I keep wondering where life will take me next, and day by day I still feel like a loser, but that's an internal strife. There is always an undercoating of fear in my melancholy, and yet, somehow, I wait to see if life will change. Life as I, should be much better and happier and yet I still struggle to make ends meet and to be tranquil & understood.

Or maybe I need to understand myself instead.

Am I scared of life, or am I welcoming a slow death in my nightmare and anger and sadness?

What is it with me? Is my indecisiveness why I feel as I do? I wonder what my life will be like as of next year when I go into student teaching. This will mean no Literotica, no chats, more than likely no stories and no chances to be bad via phone or on IM's. It's a certain death of a lonely heart and I am going to have to deal with it.

My dreams are dying. They've been on life support since I was kicked out of the Marines in 1986 and when my first relationship dissolved into a murky blackness that I can't creep out of no matter what I try to do.

Tears sting my eyes daily ... I'm wondering if I should finally toss out all my old sketch books, let my old art disintergrate and crumble into dust and memories. Have the tubes of my heart & veins finally become arterially hardened and I die so very slowly, a constricted fucked-up human being who can't rise from the dead.

Will someone pluck me from my grave, or have I slid my own headstone over myself by idiocy and choice? Am I like Painless, in need of tenderness and love, or am I just a fool waiting for life to secure my place in legend or debris?

Maybe that can be discovered later.

Always,



~ J ~