a friend of mine died this week. yawn. this is getting fucking old to me. actually no it isn't. which is the weird thing about death. it is like the only true given in life but our dna doesn't even have anything in there to tell us it is normal. thanks a lot god. and animals don't have any death skills in their dna either, i know this because i have seen a squirrel sitting in the middle of the road all confused about its squashed friend. watching animals mourn road kill is like the saddest thing on earth.
i wasn't super close to this dead person either, so you don't have to console me. he was a friend's brother. i went over to his house and brought him lasagne yesterday. I HAVE NOTHING INSIGHTFUL TO SAY ABOUT THIS SO HERE, EAT THIS FOOD. people should make it a general rule to not say insightful things ever, because most peoples insight fucking sucks. dave loved it that i made my friend food because according to him it was old fashioned and lovely. i didn't bake it before i brought it over because i thought they would have like seven thousand casserole dishes full of shitty food people brought them so i thought they could put the raw lasagne in the fridge and heat it another day but i guess bringing food to the grieving really is old fashioned because they had nothing to eat in the whole house. and then my friend didn't know how to turn on the oven so thank god i did bring it, i have no idea how he has been feeding himself for the past however many years.
then i had to leave before it came out of the oven because i wasn't sure about the etiquette of eating grief lasagne. like is it rude if i have some, or is it rude if i don't have some, i have no idea. mmm, grief lasagne. the red peppers tell you to cry, the cream says it's okay and the vodka says it's not. i actually didn't leave before it came out of the oven, i left right after that, because i wanted to make sure he knew how to turn the oven off.
i had to try really hard to follow my own rule about not sharing my brilliant insights with others because they think it was a suicide. they don't know because there wasn't a note or anything and it was one of those things that i guess maybe could have been an accident. here is my insight on suicide: when someone commits suicide and everyone tells you it was not your fault, um, actually it probably was. you don't live in a fucking vacuum, guess what, the stupid shit you do has an impact on people, maybe you should try being nicer. it is even stupider when they try telling you there was nothing you could have done. that is obviously a lie because when you try helping people that are alive nobody tells you hey, you might as well stop it because there is nothing you can do. i mean obviously i would never say this to someone, but i am also not going to say there is nothing they could have done because i am not one of those shitty people patronizes some poor pathetic person in mourning. i have been that poor pathetic person.
i am going to leave you with one last insight on suicide. if you are going to commit suicide, please leave a note. if you don't know what to write just write 'i'm sorry.' or you could even write 'fuck you' because if you do not leave a note 'fuck you' is pretty much what everyone is going to get out of it anyway. if i ever kill myself i am going to do it in front of the biggest white wall i can find. i am going to take a red lipstick and make a list on the wall, 'your fault/not your fault.' i am going to name names.