This was written by one of my current flatmates. He posts irregularly, but I’d say he’s a better writer then me.
Life as a Commodity
Selfishness is an attribute often applied to suicide victims, with weakness quick to follow. Ending one’s life seems to contribute more to a person’s reputation than their entire existence beforehand.
There is a seething sense of ownership behind the visage of friendship. A ravenous desire beneath the veneer of betrayal. One’s life is not one’s own, it seems to say. One’s life belongs to everyone, but oneself.
Life has become a commodity—not to be experienced by friends, but owned, tucked away, and forgotten. It is taken for granted, until it is lost. The great lack of existence has been hidden beneath a mountain of commodities, so when death reaches in and plucks one away, the commodity itself is blamed. The lack is no longer understood as a side effect of existence. It must come from somewhere. It must come from loss.
In calling suicide selfish, the…
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