Month: September 2016

V: Suicide Room

IV: Suicide Room

 

Disclaimer:

This file is not a pre-approved Suicide Room Case. However, it has become available to the public. It was discovered, and has been encrypted in such a way that hacking attempts have only managed to reveal unwilling words that do not work within any context. It is clearly a well-hidden file.

It has been released to the public under these conditions:
1) The main goal of releasing this file to the public is to recruit a larger number of people who could potentially figure out what it inside the document.
2) The contents of the document may not be used publicly until pre-approved by the Suicide Room.
3) Any readable and understandable contents of this document, if discovered, are to be reported immediately.
4) Any contents found unreported will be met with stern punishment.
5) Any names or assigned numbers within the document will be thoroughly investigated upon report and discovery.

To attempt to read the document, please select it below:

ENCRYPTED_DOCUMENT

Your co-operation on this endeavour is appreciated.

 

 

Hint: Pay special attention to the words used in III: Suicide Room

X: Scrawl

IX: Scrawl

 

IT’S NO USE. NO USE CALLING. THOSE WHO I PRETEND LOVE ME ARE USELESS.

PLEASE, KILL ME IF YOU CAN, I WON’T STRUGGLE.

I WILL BE HAPPILY SHOT DOWN – IF I COULD STOP BREATHING FOR A MINUTE, AND ALLOW MY UNWELCOME SOUL TO PASS THROUGH MY HATING LIPS, I WOULD AND I WOULD NOT MISS IT.

GOD DAMN, SOMETIMES THE PAIN TAKES ME OVER COMPLETELY UNTIL WORTHLESSNESS SETS IN TO THE POINT WHERE ASKING FOR HELP IS POINTLESS. WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME. WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME. WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME. WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME. WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME. WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME. WHO WHO WHO WHO WHO WHO WHO.

TEARS RUST MY CHEEKS UNTIL I AM AS RED AND BROKEN AS DAYLIGHT.

WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME.

I CANNOT SCREAM FOR FEAR OF BRINGING MORE UPON MYSELF.

I CANNOT LET IT OUT FOR FEAR OF BEING ALONE FOR FAR TOO LONG AGAIN.

I CANNOT TELL THOSE I DON’T KNOW BECAUSE THEY HAVEN’T THE TIME NOR THE ENERGY.

WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME.

I AM SAFER LIKE THIS.
LONELIER
BUT SAFER LIKE THIS.

I WILL HAPPILY DIE, ROT AND FEAST WITHIN THE EARTH.

JUST KILL ME.

JUST BURY ME.

IT’S WORTH IT TO BE FREE OF THIS.

JUST LET ME DIE.

WHO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME.

HO WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME.

O WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME.

WOULD HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME.

HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME.

HELP A STREAK OF SHIT LIKE ME.

HELP ME.

HELP ME.

HELP ME.

HELP ME.

HELP ME.

IV: The True Freedom – Care [Lull]

III: The True Freedom – Need [Lull]

Caring – about people, about things, about life – is an act of maturity.
– Tracy McMillan

 

Truly passionate individual,

Whose own spirit drifts on unaccomplished,

By even the smallest of pinprick silences,

And whose eyes – forever glowing

from the heat of their unrewarded generosity and certainty –

will one day rot, just as all ours will, within the ground.

 

Just as mine will glaze with each step,

Concrete – to dirt – to concrete – to wasps’ nest –

Again and again –

Seeing the helpless and hungerful traveller,

His travel halted by the unquenchable hunger of starvation,

And I do not extend my hand,

My eyes will rot, just as all ours will, within the ground.

Just as the eyes with passion will.

 

So! -I hear. What, pray you tell, is the point?

To be so blunt and disfigured within yourself,

And to hold onto nothing more on your deathbed than the fact that

you were a Good Person on arrival. So

what? Go on your way, sitting patiently in the waiting room that is

Purgatory, a place you so drastically believed in, which,

of course,

is irrational.

I will continue on, isolated during my own tar-stricken death,

knowing I’ve done nothing but Ruin, and yet our fates are the same.

Cold, unflattering earth upon our round faces, bruised by death and patience.

 

So! -I hear. What, pray you tell, is the point?

Here is the point.

Be rid. I have spoken, often, to take away and never to give.

But to give is to do nothing. My sister is half of me.

To attempt, to even admit to trying to salvage some

goodness within herself, it is false. So, I urge her,

The words never leaving my head, never casting a bitter taste

to my grey tongue, Be rid. I’d whisper.

Follow your half. Learn to bask in yourself and to reject humility.

For no matter who winds up hating you

No one will hate you as much as yourself. And no

one will accept you as much as the earth to your body when you

inevitably fall from your rightful place in the Aurora and into

the fresh casket I will prepare for you. I will not die until you do.

 

Yes. I care, I care too much. Enough to destroy whole corners.

But you! -sweetness that you are, do not. Should not.

Begin when you awake. Cast yourself around the world

always stepping in the sunlight,

and never take your eyes off the moon. Beggars

will be invisible to you, corporations no more than

mere cancerous lumps as you sweep on by,

avoiding them. Like all. Twist yourself enough,

and leave me far below as you screw yourself in

like a jigsaw. This missing shade of navy,

Above,

Casting the most beautiful shadows on the hideous landscape

as you lie your serene head down on the velvet

not even whispering a good-night to your protector.

Then I will know I have succeeded.

 

Awake. Sister.

Cast yourself around the world.

Always stepping in the sunlight.

And never taking your eyes off the moon.

 

V: The True Freedom -Material [Lull]

III: The True Freedom – Need [Lull]

II: The True Freedom – Time [Lull]

 

They might not need me; but they might. I’ll let my head be just in sight;
a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity.

-Emily Dickinson

 

Basic humanity –

Conservative, but,

Without the main heat of the warm and

Fulfilling gaze of the Needee,

the Needy pushes on.

Priceless. Always and forever,

Searching for that same strand, hopeless tempt-

-ation of spirit and fortune, candle

with frozen wick, waiting for the flame.

As are we. Just breathing hard enough to

keep our heads above the tide, the wall, even,

Just for a chance to be given unflattering attention.

Let us ignore this. I’ll make her sturdy.

Un-reliant. On anybody. Let us be rid,

Completely,

Of Need.

 

We exist, and exist together – me and her – and

never does the time pass. We – me and her-

Both young,

Both old, simultaneously, Remembering nothing

of the forgotten riches of agony of memory,

So much so I’ve forgotten what her shoulder-blades

Look like.

I do not need to know. I raise her chin

as she sleeps and cast her face, at peace,

Into my wet concrete mind. Preserved. Not

remembered. But preserved, certainly.

To leave her now would be insanity.

I will remove all needs from her,

She will become more by becoming less,

Such as ice fills the space water could

never reach. I remove the shoulder of

her nightdress. I can be slow. No heat,

No softness, coarseness, no Need for the

suffocating pinkness of the cotton skin.

I can be slow. In this.

 

Soon. I will create a new woman.

A new woman will be created. Soon.

She will be a duchess of the sky, cast naked,

Young as blossom but old as granite,

Suspended between the constellations of the

astrologers’ imaginations and the astronomers’ charts,

She will both create and aspire,

And walk her own way around the dark lilac sky,

A dancing camellia on the rippling aurora surface,

As the midnight waterfalls of thunder give her something

to dance to.

A marchioness, champion. Visible in the perpetual twinning

of Night and Day, above and below the sky, below and above the earth,

My creation. My sister, my ultimate, my polished stone. Who wants

for nothing. Who needs nothing. Who desires nothing. Whose

morals are straight as a helix, whose regards and

appreciation is aimed only inwards, no need for

approval, no more, not now she is and is not the sky.

No need for a name, no need for the gaze of strangers,

No need for the warmth of others. She is the ultimate,

The queen,

Head of my pride,

Below the skin,

Un-relenting, Un-reliant, Un-unreal,

Dearest naked cherub,

Splendid absolution of perfection,

Girl beneath my palm.

 

IV: The True Freedom – Care [Lull]