I
just read about a 15 year old Filipino actress named Julia Buencamino
who
hung herself. One of my pleasant little activities is to read through
the Wikipedia kicked-it list periodically. Probably says a lot about
what a bitter little black-hole I am. Regardless, to this specific
story.
It
makes you wonder why, of course it does, why would a 15 year old kill
herself? Why would an actress of all people who, you must assume, is
doing better at life than her kin punch herself out so early?
A
good, well I will say 'good' he may read and disagree, friend of mine
once wrote some very astute words on tragedy and sadness. He was
speaking of Philip Seymour Hoffman and had trouble chewing his death
down as a tragedy. If I may misquote, 'a millionaire fucking around
with heroin is not a tragedy'.
Then
what is this. Is it enough to call it a tragedy? Is it too much? Part
of the suicide quandary, or at least any suicide worth talking about,
is the potential that is snuffed out with the body. And for a 15 year
old actress, a 15 year old body of any persuasion, it is hard to say
that lost potential is not a tragedy- to whatever degree.
This is lost potential, gone potential, spoken words.
To
whatever degree you consider this 'sad' or 'tragic', to most of us it
is surely confusing. That same question, that shitty little one that
will roll around forever only hopping off the wheel to drown you in
sadness and ever-more unanswerable questions, why would a 15 year old
do this?
And
then you imagine yourself at 15 and grit swims out of your eyeballs.
In that little snapshot, that constantly degenerating picture of
yourself in your time of suffering you see the motive. You remember
that time when you were at the end of your rope, very nearly and
almost literally. The coat hook broke for me, and thank god...kinda.
Hormones
and teenager stuff is real. For the way 'teen angst' is bandied about
in the lexicon as something that passes and is overblown and all
that, the true shitiness is pretty well buried.
I
am not saying that teen problems aren't ridiculous, I am not saying
emo culture has a legitimate or logical foothold and I am definitely
not saying we need more teen suicides.
What
I am saying is, it doesn't get any easier. Being an adult is a
perpetual exercise in swallowing shit, avoiding shit and making
noises to get out of chairs.
As
a teenager you have hormones waging war on you, as an adult it is
paying for the shit that keeps you alive and usually working a
dead-shit job to get that done. One is a war from within, one a war
from with...out? Both valid.
I Worked Through Teen Years To Lift This Shit Upstairs
Adults
are nothing more than those who learned or were able to get through a
phase of bullshit to live a life of it. And continue to live in the
hope that they can hoist themselves out of it. But largely you can't;
you work your day to jack-off at the end of it, you work your week
for the money to get drunk at the end of it.
The
world keeps turning and as it does, you put a little money away, then
comes the electric bill for winter. Mouth on the tail-pipe once
again.
NP.
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