>>From: Belacqua
>>To: Perdita
>>Subject: loneliness
>>Date: Sun, 3 Dec 2000

Christ. I just asked a friend to buy me some alcohol, and after she left, I found myself sitting in the kitchen, slumped on the floor in the narrow space, feeling absolutely alone and empty. It's so fucked up. When I'm alone, I'm crushed by depression, and when I'm with people, I'm paralyzed by anxiety. What the fuck kind of alternative do I have? I always thought I liked being alone because of how much I hated being in crowds, but living on my own has told me that I was quite mistaken. I liked being alone before because there was still someone in the house. I was hardly ever completely alone. What's really scary is the thought that if I paid my rent and then killed myself, it would be a very, very long time before anybody discovered that I was dead. That's how isolated I am. It would be at least two weeks before anyone started worrying, and then it would be probably two more weeks before anyone decided to come into the apartment to check. That is, unless someone smelled it before then. That's a great thought: people would smell me rotting before they noticed I wasn't around. It doesn't get much more insignificant than that.

There's a great Alkaline Trio song called "Trouble Breathing":

You told me that you want to die
I said I've been there myself
more than a few times and
I go back every once in awhile
you called me lucky

You said tonight is a wonderful
night to die. I asked how
you could tell. you told me
to look at the sky
Look at all those stars
Look at how goddamn ugly the stars are

It's one or another
between a rope and a bottle
I can tell you're having trouble breathing

cuz you'll never be ok
you will always be in pain
you'll always feel this way
cuz things - they never
work out right the wrong way
the lonely way
you'll always be in pain

You told me that the daylight burned you
and that the sunrise was enough to kill you
I said maybe you're a vampire
you said it's quite possible
I feel truly dead inside
don't forget to let your life rot you inside out

I think that's probably my favorite song right now. They get it. I have to wait two hours to get my alcohol. My friend has to go downtown with someone first, and she said she'll get it for me when she gets back. Fucking laws. I don't want to see straight when I get done tonight.

I really wish you were here, or I were there, or we were both somewhere different together. It's almost Friday, but it's not close enough. It's like I can feel the river of time slowing down to drive me crazy, and I'm sure it'll speed right back up again when you get here to make the moments of comfort I have as fleeting as possible. I really hate feeling like I do. That's nothing earth-shattering, but it really hit me hard right now. There's just not anything that can make me feel good. If something is bothering me, the solution to that problem causes another problem. Whatever I do, I end up back where I started: feeling miserable. Existence is like this really shitty maze, where every time you turn a corner, you hit another dead end. I'm so bitter towards everyone else because they don't have to feel this way. What did they do to get out of this? How can they not feel this way, too? Why don't they? It's like screaming in space. I'm not going to find any answers because there just aren't any. Life is fucking unfair, and I happened to be dealt one of the particularly unfair hands. I realize that, but it still pisses me off.

I feel like writing all that should have gotten something off my chest, but all I did was go in a big fucking circle, and I feel like there are volumes I should be spouting out. It wouldn't do any good, anyway. I hate feeling helpless, and that's how this makes me feel: completely helpless. Somebody else is in the driver's seat and I have to sit here with my teeth clenched shut wondering where the asshole driver is going to drop me next. Fuck. This is reaching epic lengths and I still don't feel like I've said a single fucking thing. I guess I'll go back to football and try to kill the few hours until I get totally fucked up.

I hope your weekend is going better than mine. It was nice to hear your voice again. I was slipping bad just sitting there last night, and you made me feel better...until another human being entered my apartment and it all came back. Oh well. I hope to hear from you soon.

I love you.
Belacqua

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>From: Perdita
>To: Belacqua
>Subject: Re: loneliness
>Date: Sun, 3 Dec 2000

Belacqua,

First off, if more than a day or two passed and you hadn't written to me or called me, I'd get seriously worried. I don't say that to make you feel like you HAVE to write or call or anything, but I want you to know that it would be a lot less than two weeks before I knew something was wrong if you just dropped off the face of the planet. And it wouldn't be because I smelled you rotting, okay?

My roommate is out doing her laundry right now. I’ve actually sunk to the level of having her pick up some more cigarettes for me while she's out. I hate doing that to people, especially if they don't smoke, but I kind of doubt I'll be doing much moving today. I really want to go downtown to do some Christmas shopping, as this is the last weekend I'll have to do it and I haven't started and there are six people in my immediate family alone, but god knows I'm not gonna come anywhere near close to doing my shopping today. Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to get yourself to do things if someone else is doing them with you? I mean, I used to go into work with my psycho ex-roommate, and I KNOW if I didn't ride the subway in with her, I never would've gone to work. Well, I guess I'm going to have to talk my brother into doing some shopping with me later this week. He has a car, anyway. Hm. The most I can hope for today is to go somewhere to just sit and smoke for awhile. I haven't left the apartment since 9:00pm on Friday, and I know I'll just get increasingly aggravated if I stay here all day again like I did yesterday.

You know, I think I've mentioned to you that I have an online friend who’s just as obsessed with Columbine as I am. Well, I got three e-mails from her today, and now I’m all started again. I like hearing from her because she doesn't jump to conclusions about me being a psychopath murderer on the loose like most people who know about me and my thoughts about Columbine. Apparently, she recently got an e-mail from a Columbine student who was bitching her out for supporting Eric and Dylan, so she wrote a reply that stated how little this Columbine student really knows about who Eric and Dylan were and how this particular student was the one doing the hate-filled mudslinging. All of this seems to be perfectly true to me from what I can tell.

I don't remember exactly what she said that made me kind of crazy, but it was something that made me feel like a totally crazy fuck who shouldn't be talking to her because she's too nice. She is really, REALLY nice and she has her own issues with depression and anxiety so she GETS things, but she seems to be doing quite well with her "recovery.” After she read Life Sucks, she told me that Columbine never would've happened if only there were more people like me. I put that quote from her up on my site to help convince people that I'm NOT doing anything illegal by stating my opinions online and I am really just stating my compassion for the Columbine killers and describing a similar feeling to what they must have been suffering before they killed themselves.

I seem to be riding this very thin line between being too compassionate and too homicidal and if I say the wrong thing to certain people on just one occasion, they're all going to flip out. I don't KNOW if my Columbine friend realizes how much I wish I could've been at the school that day JUST TO SEE THE BLOOD. She has this theory that she would've tried to stop it, and on some level, I'm sure I would've tried to stop it too, but I would've tried to stop Eric and Dylan from killing themselves more than anything else because I'd have wanted someone to talk to who was somewhat like me. Then I would've tried to convince them to give me a gun and let me join in the killing. Does she know that? Would she think I'm fucked up if she DID know that? I'm like this big fucking savior to the people who agree with Columbine, and I'm a big fucking pain in the ass to people who are terrified of it happening again, and I don't think I'm prepared to have to deal with all that before saying exactly what's on my mind about it. I know something of what Eric and Dylan had to suffer through, and the only way to gain credibility in their worlds would’ve been to agree with the killing. From there, perhaps something could’ve been done to save them. But why would I want to save two kids who wanted so desperately to die, anyway?

You'll have to let me hear that Alkaline Trio song when I come down to see you. The lyrics are awesome.

Out of nowhere, I just spotted a Nietzsche quote on my roommate’s desk that says, "Without music life would be a mistake." That just makes me so sad because I used to feel that way and I used to put a lot of emphasis on the importance of music in my life, but then I went to school and learned too much about it and it's since lost all the magic. Music doesn't do anything for me anymore. My schooling got me thinking about it a bit too mathematically and a bit too politically, and now when I hear music I want to fucking throw something. Music makes me angry now. Doesn't that suck? All I ever wanted out of life was to be able to do what I love, and now I don't love the only thing I ever did. Goddamn fucking world.

I love you, and I can't wait till Friday.
Perdita