2001-09-30 The water in the river is brown. It looks positively fishy. Last year, in October, I spent some nights there, looking at the reflections on the river surface and thinking of drowning myself. It wasn't a fun autumn. Although, in a way it was. There's nothing as glamorous as thinking of dying next to beautiful places. Not in agony, just calm, although knowing it won't work out and you have to die (because there is no other way). I used to watch trees there, by the river. Particularly this one tree. It's huge, next to Åbo Akademi (a swedish university), and utterly beautiful. A few days before I did that pathetic, not-to-be-succeeded suicide attempt, I went to that tree, climbed over the fence surrounding it, and just hugged it, real hard. I'm not a tree-hugging person, usually. But this thing, that was so beautiful, just touched me immensely and I had to touch it, had to wrap my arms around it, even if just for a few seconds. It made me think less of dying, more of eternal life (in which I don't believe). It was a beautiful starry night, and I was in awe of the world. It was one of those moments when you feel that you're not alone, but instead guarded by a million spirits. Sometimes I love this world, because it's beautiful and painful and wonderful and everything else too. Because it has me in it. Because I live here, now, like this. That's the thing that keeps me going, these moments. |
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