A friend just told me about his ex-classmate (That makes him my age; 17.) who killed himself. He jumped. 24 stories. It’s pretty unimaginable. Mind-blowing even. 24 stories; he must really have wanted to kill himself. No chance of survival there. Jump, 24 stories, fly, splat, gone.

I have no idea how to react to something like that. I mean, old people. They die all the time. No offence to anyone, but it’s true. They get old and they die. Either cos they’re sick or they’re just too damn old. Sick people, they die too. But for this guy, he is, ok well, he was, perfectly fine. I don’t know what drove him to kill himself. School? Girl? Parents? What?

It’s just one of those things where you see something happen to someone your own age and you think you know how to relate. But then again, just how much do you know about that one person? Can you see the mass murderer in the person? More often than not, no. Can you see the suicidal tendencies in the person? Maybe. But if they don’t want you to know, they’ll hide it so damn well you’d still think the Sun shines out of their ass. And then the next day, they’re gone. They’re really gone.

Suicide and killing people? It’s becoming so increasingly common and somehow it just scares the shit out of me. All these emo kids you see online “Omg, I could kill myself. No one understands me. I hate my parents. I want to kill myself, slash my wrists”. Suicidal? Or desperate cry for attention? I don’t deny, I do that sometimes in jest. Just for fun, you know? Just to add a little drama to the mama. Then there are the people who say “My life is amazing. Amazing bf, amazing family, amazing college, amazing friends” and the next day, they fucking kill themselves. Blow their brains out, jump off the building, OD and shit.

All I’m saying is that you never really know how a person thinks until they’ve written their own damn epitaph. (Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal.)

24fuckingstories… Wow.

Get a fucking grip, Constance. Now is not the time to go ape shit.