If you straight lack that gem called patience (or time), read the letter. It's marked in italics and centered.
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Sometimes (very often) people (putas) say things that make me just want to slap them. Most specifically, when they say things about another person that, well, aren't very nice. When this urge finds itself trickling into my fingertips, I instead decide to invest the energy into the keyboard of my beloved silver machine and let insomnia do the rest. The product of such acts is some of which you have read on here.
This time, I wanted to cover an issue that is just the same issue as above, stemming from mouths that shouldn't have words stemming from them to begin with. (They don't follow the rules of Thumper.) Lately, these tragic stories seem to be peeking their way more and more into the pages of my news feeds, as recent cases and viral videos have surfaced collectively into the realm of online media / social media front pages, including Twitter, Reddit, and Facebook (via separate news channels and shared links). The final spark to write about it and address some side issues came when I shuffled through some miscellaneous saved documents and found a letter that I had saved after searching the meaning behind one of my favorite bands' songs.
With that said, please read on.
The following is an excerpt from a suicide letter:
"To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with so many uncaring faces."
No way in Hell.
No way in Hell should any human being be driven to such a conclusion. Never should one be brought to the conclusion that his very existence is merely that of a cruel joke. Even worse is the postulation that it was by the doings of God, the God that is not cruel, but in fact a loving God that just so happens to play in the same battlefield as Satan.
God is not evil, for it cannot exist in his presence alone. Evil exists because humans have free will. With free will, we have the ability to choose between good and evil because we have the knowledge of it. My message for those who are strong believers in hard determinism: You make your own choices... He just already knows the choices you are going to make.
Begin the cycle: If we did not have free will, then we would be like puppets and God the puppeteer. But if the point of creating mankind is on behalf of an omnibenevolent entity, God, and His hope in return is to receive unconditional love from that of which He has created, there would be no point to have created the earth since the unconditional love does not come from puppets. For this same reason and using the same logic, there would be no reason for Satan to have both the will and the ability to penetrate our hearts and inflict evil within our free will. To reiterate: it is a battlefield.
It is human beings, therefore, that choose evil sans the presence of God in their hearts. We all sin, it is also an ongoing battle within ourselves to uphold the standard of love which is bestowed upon us as loved ones of God.
Innocence collides with blind intentions and wrongdoing, guided by human tendencies we are born into, innate as the need to breathe. Knowledge of good, it fights a losing battle when what is easy outweighs what is hard - to resist temptation. Lo, evil corrupts the pure as evil synthesizes with a life lacking in the spirit of Jesus.
***But let me make known that the point of this post is for the masses, for believers and non-believers alike. The goal is to pinpoint an issue that is often overlooked because it is framed into a picture that only captures the tip of the iceberg; to grab hold of the victimizers and shake them just a bit - to demonstrate how the ignorance of the masses, the accepted cruelties of society, and insecurities of everyone alike breaks down a human being until they decide that the only way out is to throw the last punch--at themselves.
I'm talking about bullying.
And I'm targeting every person and like-person mentioned in the below letter.
Adam Krieger wrote this suicide letter, assuming that only one person would really mourn his loss.
However, I believe everyone who has love in their heart mourns his loss... And if I'm doing the math right, Adam--that's a lot of people.
To the man and woman who chose to
conceive a child, the result of which was me, when it fit in with their five
year plan;
To the teachers who never really cared, no matter
what they say;
To my fellow geeks, dweebs, et. al., who will no
doubt receive more abuse upon my passing, as my tormentors will no longer have
me to kick around;
To my fellow students who made my life a living
nightmare when they should have focused on their education;
To those who never cared, never spoke, probably
never knew my name;
To the one true friend, whose caring was the only
thing that prevented this even from happening sooner;
To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a
cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with
so many uncaring faces;
To all of you, goodbye.
I am leaving a world to which I never truly
belonged or fit in. Do not weep for me, or mourn my passing. I say this not
because I expect to be missed, but to allow those who truly did not care go on
with their lives with a clean conscience and dry eyes. I know you don't want to
weep for me. So don't. But I do ask you to listen to the final words of a young
man who has taken charge of his own destiny.
Perhaps my parents might feel something inside
which causes them to shed tears. They may pretend that it's sorrow for their
"loss", but I hope it is something else. Perhaps sorrow for bringing
a child into this world when they really didn't have the time or desire to
raise him. I wasn't the product of love, born of a desire to prepare another
human being to grow and lead the human race. I was merely the next acquisition,
the next task, the next project on their list of things that bring
significance.
No child should be brought into this world for the
mere purpose of being just another possession. I am not an asset to be
cataloged and listed on your tax forms beside your house and car, or fought
over during your divorce proceedings. I am a human being. I'm sorry that it
took this to make you realize that. If you don't yet get it, then I'm even
sorrier.
What about my teachers? Will they be sorry to see
another student become a statistic? Certainly the administration and Principal
Chowning will mourn, as my death will not reflect well on them as an
institution. Well, I apologize for making the statistics for your
administration worse. But I don't expect an apology for the false sympathies of
people like Mrs. Dunfee, and the broken promises of others like Mr. Richman.
As for my fellow students, those who made a more
significant impact on my life, I know better than to expect my tormentors to
mourn.
But if I’m going to address those who belittled
me, I’d be remiss if I failed to include the ladies in my life. I guess that’s
not entirely accurate, as the ones I refer to fall in two basic categories:
those who refused to be in my life, and those who I would rather have excluded
from my life. In the former category, Melinda Tunney, Jessica Silvers, and dear
Kimmy Vanover, who laughed in my face after I asked her to the homecoming
dance, humiliating me in front of I don’t know how many other classmates. In
the latter category are too many to mention, though I must single out Rebecca
Cull and Vanessa Dietrich for their tremendous dedication to the cause of
destroying any shred of self-esteem I might dare to foster. Why can’t you
accept the things that make other people different rather than insisting
everyone conforms to your will?
Sure, some did offer friendly gestures. Nicole
Edwards often would greet me and ask about my life. Not that I ever felt
comfortable enough to tell her anything; I never trusted her enough to give her
the chance. What was the purpose? Did you really give a flip about the shy,
quiet kid who sat behind you in 8th grade history? Or was it all about creating
an illusion that you care, just to guarantee my voting for you as a class
officer.
I can only conceive of one person in this world
who will truly be sad at my parting. Marty, my best friend, you talked me out
of this decision three times before. You even called 911 after I swallowed a
bottle of pills. That is why I did not tell you anything this time, and why I
do this in secret, alone. I wish you were coming with me on this great
adventure, into the final frontier. Where ever I go, yours will be the one face
I carry with me. The one soul I will miss. Yours is also the only forgiveness I
ask and beg for as I depart from this life. I love you, and always will.
There's another group I have not yet addressed:
those not like me who left me alone. Or I should say ignored me. I appreciate
your sparing me any further harassment, but your inaction, your withheld hellos
and how are yous did more to hurt than any name calling. Your inaction
effectively excluded me from student life, from the human race. You left me
isolated and alone, and no words I could say can convey to you the suffering
you caused. I could name names, but in doing so, I would do more now for you
than you ever did for me in life.
I do not know if what awaits me at the end of this
gun. Will there be a void? Or will I come face to face with God? I just don't
care any more. If you're anything like your people, I wouldn't want to know
you. You preached to love one another, yet I've felt everything except love
from Christians. Even if I could know you were different, well, I still reject
you. You have left your "followers" to treat people like me poorly.
You have allowed so many of the people you "love", including me, to
suffer. So you want me to trust you with my life? I don't want to spend
eternity with a careless deity like you, or with the company you keep.
As my final moments tick away, I wonder what
impact these words will create. It depends first on this web site being found,
as I doubt whether school administration will want such venom spoken publicly
about their lack of caring. Still, the Internet is a remarkable place where
even the least significant individual can be heard. Will anyone listen? Will
anyone take action? Will students pause and pay attention to the hurting hearts
around them? And even if they do, will it be a temporary salve for their egos,
to convince themselves they're really not bad people, or will real change
happen?
My heart certainly goes out to my fellow
outsiders. With me gone, some of you will certainly feel more of the pain and
hurt that I did. No one understands you. No one cares how your day is going. No
one bothers to get to know you as anything more than a nerd, a geek, a loser.
You can do nothing for their social status, save the occasional boost to the
ego they get from putting you in your place. Some of you, like Andy Riker, will
find outlets in writing. Some, like James Moon, will have an escape in art.
Some, like Sean Gilbert, will live their lives pursuing unicorns that they will
never, ever catch. I never had a talent to lose myself in, or a dream or
unicorn to chase, and so I have taken the path most dreaded. Some of you may
soon join me, and I look forward to welcoming a brother or sister to the land
where you will never suffer the loneliness and rejection that faces you now.
Farewell forever. I am going to another place.
Where, I do not know. But logic dictates that it can only be an improvement.
Perhaps my passing will only prove a footnote in a school yearbook. Then again,
perhaps the sacrifice of one might bring hope to others. If my death makes life
for one person a little more bearable, or a little more enlightened, do I
really die in vain?
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of
the few, or the one."
- Adam Krieger
I am an avid Blink-182 fan. They are my absolute favorite band. One small example why is because they wrote this song after reading Adam's letter, and gave it the title:
Blink-182 did this, so the question then becomes: What can we do? What can you do?
If I may, a few recommendations:
1.) Whether you be a victim or someone who has the urge to bully - Please, find that outlet to lose yourself in. Search for it. Create it. Just don't make it the suffering of someone else because you don't have the strength to recognize your own. I honestly believe that those who have improper capacities in which to relinquish their own suffering, undoubtedly suppress it upon those they believe to possess similar characteristics and elements of insecurity.
2.) Listen. The calls for help are all around you. They can be found in conversation. Body language and tone. A Facebook post. A single tweet. They are all over YouTube comment threads. I just listened to "How To Save A Life" by The Fray, and looked at the comments. As of an hour ago:
This is the only song that's ever made me cry...... and i thank you for that the fray because all the emotions I held back from all the shit i toke[sic] through high school was killing me, five years of high school with no friends, sitting by myself every lunch time for 5 years people saying shit to me as they walk by me.
that's
why I turned to music because i have know[sic] one else, my parents are never home
when I'm home and I cry myself to sleep.
fuck
i hate thinking about that.
Be the kid that makes the difference. Like I mentioned, find that outlet - so far it seems to be music that is saving this guy^.
As a side note, I do agree with those who are starting to recognize that we live in a culture that sort of promotes weakness, almost catering to those who feel a need to victimize themselves and use common tolls or past events as a crutch. Today, as I read the stream following Jonah Mowry's viral video concerning his bullying, I realize the catch 22 of the mere fact that this video is viral: Will a kid watching this know the difference in the extent in which to simply deal and which to recognize as too far? Are we sending a masked message that being called bad words should inhibit self-isolation and destruction of how one rates themselves worthy of living? I'm not a little kid anymore so I can't say, but as I read the continuous comment stream below the video I witness those who seem to be "the tough." They seem to identify themselves as people in identical situations as Jonah, calling out that they've been in the same hole all their life but don't feel the need to gain pity or recognition from others; as if it's a fact of life and those bullied just need to deal with it. Too ambiguous to streamline any thesis, all I want to do is bring awareness to this contra-issue of nurtured weakness that I have witnessed firsthand.
...Also what I'm saying, is: When I raise my kids, I'm going to tell them that should some twat come trolling over them like a high tide, tell them to kindly back the fuck up and stuff it with a tampon. ROLL TIDE.
But seriously. Common law demonstrates the insecure lash out, so scare them with wit and a little bit where it hurts.
To those addressed as the source of Adam's death:
Obviously, you knew laughing in his face would be embarrassing for him. So, you think being laughed at in front of others is embarrassing? I think being called out as one of the sources of someone's suicide is embarrassing. Really, really embarrassing. I can only hope you've recognized your wrongdoings, and forgiven yourself, because I cannot imagine the burden you carry.
Teenage girls, young adult ladies, woman of all ages: Don't be that girl. Don't associate yourself with those girls. A pretty face, money, popular status, or your own insecurities - none of that grants you the right or authority to act as a detriment to someone else's happiness, to rob them of high spirits, or to infringe on the rights granted to human beings since the moment of conception. Remove the princess crown and earn a callus or two.
If only we could all dethrone ourselves and live like no one was better than the other.
Because of who I am, I need to end on one note:
If you ever feel that no one here loves you, know that God does. More than you will ever know; unconditionally. So much, that He will grant you the strength to strive for another day... followed by another, until His precious will supersedes your own and you meet on His intended terms.
All you need to do is ask.
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