The Things I Know
People seem to get the notion that suicidals are taking the easy, simple way out. Well, lemme tell ya people, suicide ain't easy nor is it simple. Suicide is a very complex thing. Like, how are ya going to go through with? Or, what're ya going to write in the note? Decisions, decision, decisions.
I, myself, prefer the ol' hangman method. I believe it gives a greater effect on your loved ones, seeing a dead body hanging from the ceiling at its one mercy. Not that I have loved ones or anything. Also, it can never be ruled as an accident. I mean, how many times a day do you stand on a stool with a rope around your neck? Very few, I'm guessing. Ya see, with the morphine death it can be ruled as an accident. And even if it isn't your family always seems to get this illusion that you were "trying it out" and "went too far". They only want to hear about the accidents. The kids who weren't supposed to die but did. It seems more noble, to be careless enough to get hit by a bus or ride with a drunk driver. But the people who live in fear of them selves, of what they could ever do to themselves, we're sickos, wussies.
I know I've been cursed. I'm a genius. I know the term "genius" has been used freely but in my case it's true. Some people might say I'm blessed with my intelligence but they have no idea. I'm always bored. Books? I've read 'em all. Music? Trombone, guitar, piano, sitar, which one would you like me to play, I know every song? Math? I'm Will Hunting. I can do anything with minimal trouble. It's just too easy. The only reason I never went to college was that I knew everything already. I would just have to go through the motions. I hate the motions. I could do anything, *anything*, I would just would have to go school to get it certified. I can't wait that long. I can't toil. I have to have everything right away. Right now. And I do, I'm just not allowed to do anything about it.
I wish I was stupid. Ignorance is bliss, right? Right. Ignorance is a shield from yourself. A shield from knowing too much. Not just knowing what the first novel was called (A Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibi) or what a tanka is (a lengthened haiku), knowing the truth. Idiots can go on their whole lives thinking that they are the most beautiful person in the world, or that they can have anybody they want. I know I'm no Drake Ramoray and my love life is dead. I know this. It's practically my creed.
I've only put my Stupidity Shield up for one instance. Her. Putting a flower in your barrel. Oh joy, oh bliss. Oh, her. There's always a her. Every great mind was bound with a giant her. With the exception of Oscar Wilde. My her was one Rachel Karen Green. She was beautiful, she was carefree, she was of average IQ. Sex goddess. A thousand miles out of my league.
I don't know what my league is and I don't really want to know, but Rachel is in no way, shape, or form in it. She's a Patrician, a Brahman, a Winchester. She's in that high-high-high-up-there-in-the-heavens-playing-a-tiny-harp league.
It would never work out. She's a JAP, I'm a Southern Baptist choir boy. She's Galadriel, I'm Gimli. She's the essence, I'm the absence. Absent.
My love was constant, never fickle or fleeting. But, I could never have her. That's why I never tried. Now, it's too late.
So, here I am, a 40-something, eccentric genius, hanging from the ceiling, recalling maudlinly bad memories to BJ Thomas.
Raindrops are falling on my head
and just like the guy who's feet are too big for his bed,
nothing seems to fit
those,
raindrops are falling on my head,they keep falling
So I just did me some talking to the sun,
and I said I didn't like the way he got things done,
sleeping on the job
those,
raindrops are falling on my head they keep falling
But there's one thing, I know
the blues they sent to meet me won't defeat me.
It won't be long 'till happiness steps up to greet me
Raindrops keep falling on my head
but that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red.
Crying's not for me, cause
I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining
because I'm free
nothing's worrying me
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me
Raindrops keep falling on my head
but that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red
crying 's not for me
Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining
because I'm free
Nothing's worrying me
People seem to get the notion that suicidals are taking the easy, simple way out. Well, lemme tell ya people, suicide ain't easy nor is it simple. Suicide is a very complex thing. Like, how are ya going to go through with? Or, what're ya going to write in the note? Decisions, decision, decisions.
I, myself, prefer the ol' hangman method. I believe it gives a greater effect on your loved ones, seeing a dead body hanging from the ceiling at its one mercy. Not that I have loved ones or anything. Also, it can never be ruled as an accident. I mean, how many times a day do you stand on a stool with a rope around your neck? Very few, I'm guessing. Ya see, with the morphine death it can be ruled as an accident. And even if it isn't your family always seems to get this illusion that you were "trying it out" and "went too far". They only want to hear about the accidents. The kids who weren't supposed to die but did. It seems more noble, to be careless enough to get hit by a bus or ride with a drunk driver. But the people who live in fear of them selves, of what they could ever do to themselves, we're sickos, wussies.
I know I've been cursed. I'm a genius. I know the term "genius" has been used freely but in my case it's true. Some people might say I'm blessed with my intelligence but they have no idea. I'm always bored. Books? I've read 'em all. Music? Trombone, guitar, piano, sitar, which one would you like me to play, I know every song? Math? I'm Will Hunting. I can do anything with minimal trouble. It's just too easy. The only reason I never went to college was that I knew everything already. I would just have to go through the motions. I hate the motions. I could do anything, *anything*, I would just would have to go school to get it certified. I can't wait that long. I can't toil. I have to have everything right away. Right now. And I do, I'm just not allowed to do anything about it.
I wish I was stupid. Ignorance is bliss, right? Right. Ignorance is a shield from yourself. A shield from knowing too much. Not just knowing what the first novel was called (A Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibi) or what a tanka is (a lengthened haiku), knowing the truth. Idiots can go on their whole lives thinking that they are the most beautiful person in the world, or that they can have anybody they want. I know I'm no Drake Ramoray and my love life is dead. I know this. It's practically my creed.
I've only put my Stupidity Shield up for one instance. Her. Putting a flower in your barrel. Oh joy, oh bliss. Oh, her. There's always a her. Every great mind was bound with a giant her. With the exception of Oscar Wilde. My her was one Rachel Karen Green. She was beautiful, she was carefree, she was of average IQ. Sex goddess. A thousand miles out of my league.
I don't know what my league is and I don't really want to know, but Rachel is in no way, shape, or form in it. She's a Patrician, a Brahman, a Winchester. She's in that high-high-high-up-there-in-the-heavens-playing-a-tiny-harp league.
It would never work out. She's a JAP, I'm a Southern Baptist choir boy. She's Galadriel, I'm Gimli. She's the essence, I'm the absence. Absent.
My love was constant, never fickle or fleeting. But, I could never have her. That's why I never tried. Now, it's too late.
So, here I am, a 40-something, eccentric genius, hanging from the ceiling, recalling maudlinly bad memories to BJ Thomas.
Raindrops are falling on my head
and just like the guy who's feet are too big for his bed,
nothing seems to fit
those,
raindrops are falling on my head,they keep falling
So I just did me some talking to the sun,
and I said I didn't like the way he got things done,
sleeping on the job
those,
raindrops are falling on my head they keep falling
But there's one thing, I know
the blues they sent to meet me won't defeat me.
It won't be long 'till happiness steps up to greet me
Raindrops keep falling on my head
but that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red.
Crying's not for me, cause
I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining
because I'm free
nothing's worrying me
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me
Raindrops keep falling on my head
but that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red
crying 's not for me
Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining
because I'm free
Nothing's worrying me
