What's wrong with Mondays?
That's what I want to know.
They always used to do it on Mondays. Regular as clockwork. Four weeks out of every five, some inconsiderate fucker would jump under a train.
Always on Monday.
Always on my line.
Always in Essex (which at least is understandable; anyone finding themselves in Essex is bound to feel suicidal).
Today is Tuesday and we have just had two of the selfish little buggers (so far).
I've offered before and I repeat the offer here: if you feel like killing yourself by jumping under a train on my line, come and see me first. I'll be happy to kill you myself and be saved the hours of delays.
Plus - if I'm feeling generous - your relatives will have something to bury; not just a few gristly lumps in a plastic bucket and a damp patch on the verge where the rest of you has been hosed off the tracks.
Oh, and if they're going to leave flowers, tell them to leave plastic ones; it gets so dismally depressing seeing the piles of rotting vegetation festering there for weeks (though the sad little helium balloon at the Manningtree daughter/mother double jump was pretty funny).
Surely nothing in life could be so bad that dying in Essex seems preferable. If you really feel you have to top yourself, go and do it somewhere nice.
Just don't do it on my line you inconsiderate bastards!
16 comments:
Crikey, Dive.
Are you feeling a little neglected ?
Arriving at the office too early ?
Life is so dull without rotting vegetation !
It used to be illegal to attempt suicide, which I've always found bizarre, and I think it was a capital offence, which is even more so.
I'm with you Dive. On the grounds that the world is grossly overpopulated, it's hard to knock a bit of voluntary population control, but not at the expense of others. Presumably the clean-up is funded by the council-tax payer?
and i thought i was grumpy/out of sorts today, sugar! ;-) xoxox
Monsieur, life would be so much better without the idiots whose families leave the stuff all over the verges. Hey ho.
Istvanski: Kill them all before they get the chance to kill themselves.
I think I'll suggest that the Samaritans set up a military wing to do just that.
Hee hee.
Indeedy, Pea. We pay for the hoses, the buckets and the gloves.
I know it's a fun form of natural selection but I wish they'd do it somewhere else.
When I go, I'll be using that lovely clinic in the Swiss Alps. A lot nicer views that Essex. Ick!
Savannah: Yup. I'm grouchy.
Sorry.
I'll try to cheer up tomorrow.
xoxox
This post leaves me feeling trainsmacked because I've never heard these suicidal statistics before! I think big city life must be too terribly stressful and perhaps more people should consider the lower salary small town angle we're workin' here in Siloam Springs.
You don't tend to have museums or metro life but at least you also don't feel suicidal most of the time with some elbow room around you.
I don't know maybe a nice cocktail of culture and antidepressants is what is necessary to meet in the middle.
We are thinking of relocating for J's work (as a graphic designer) and big cities always have the enticing and exciting jobs. But then we flip flop with the pro's and con's of city life and get confused.
Peahen raises an interesting point. As if breaking the law, for which one can not be punished anyway, would prevent suicide. This is simply so that insurance companies won't have to pay out on death policies.
We always knew that insurance companies for the most part are just plain evil.
We have a nice spot in Sydney called 'The Gap'. It's not as quick as there is the long fall to consider but the result is the same.
Come and visit me Dive, I have a happy story today which I'm hoping will boot me into a better mood too.
Geez, what's in the drinking water in Essex?
Dive here's to a better train ride tomorrow. Shesh! To get you in the right frame of mind for Wednesday, I offer you my new friend Sally chez moi. Now you'll understand what you were missing by not going out to shake your boooty!
I'm all with you dive.
One of my aunts chose this way of ending her life because she had terminal cancer and doctors wouldn't let her end her life too soon - they wanted her to go through the whole downhill process and painful hospital agony. They're so proud of their attitude - they're here to save lives you see, not to help terminate them.
My dad for the same reason threw himself out the window. A jump from the sixth floor did the trick and no-one was late commuting to work. I'm very proud of my dad. You would have liked him.
Please make assisted suicide legal for heavens sake - and the trains will run on time. Cheers!
Tell us how you REALLY feel, Dive.
Shan: work in the big city (and play in it from time to time), but live way out in the peaceful countryside.
It works for me.
Mme: Please don;t get me started on the evils of insurance companies (I believe there is a rant about that somewhere in the archives).
And thank you; Sascha has a way of cheering me up.
Rich: Essex is … well … imagine all the hick, backwoods communities in the US and combine them with the worst inner city slums, drop an ignorance bomb on the whole mess and Essex is what crawls out.
Katie: Mercifully I am working from home today. I could do with a glass of Disco Sally, however.
Nathalie: I am so sad to hear of your losses. Making assisted suicide legal would be a wonderful and merciful thing. I fully intend to choose my own moment and hopefully will use that nice clinic in Switzerland. My close friend is dying of motor neurone disease and the fact that his family will be prosecuted and probably jailed when they help him die is making his ordeal even more miserable.
It needs to be legal.
Now.
Lynn: I feel shitty today, thank you for asking.
lol x my pleasure. My best wishes for a better day tomorrow, dear Dive.
Yikes...I don't know if I am allowed to laugh...but I did anyway.
Thank you, Lynn.
And yes, Shazza; that's the way I cope with it all.
I'm just going to admit it here and now: I have thought about committing suicide.
But, I was always in the mind, no matter how desperate I was feeling, that I needed to do it in a quiet, unassuming way that would not fuck up anyone else's life. Jumping in front of cars, shooting myself in the head, they all are messy and someone would have to clean up my mess. I long ago decided that I would go into the woods, deep, deep, deep, and take a fistful of narcotics that would kill me off gently. And then, well...let the animals have me. Morbid? Maybe. But, I would leave a note somewhere making sure that my loved ones would know that I did love them, but just could not stand ME anymore.
And then I went and had a child and now, damn it all to hell, I have to live because hurting her is simply out of the question.
Me too, Maria.
Every single day; sometimes for hours on end.
Hey ho.
Post a Comment