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...she walked in through the out door.
encounter III
But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.

Anne Sexton, Wanting to Die

I didn't even know his name. He was a teacher. A fragile man with a romantic look, dark wavy hair and a moustache like a musketeer. We watched him when he bought his tobacco: a motley crew, mostly freelancers without work, castaways, smoking and chatting in the tobacconist's shop like the villagers in Ike Godsey's grocery store.

There was some fine lively talk between the teacher and me, but he seemed absent minded, not interested in more than a random contact.

Then he didn't appear for some weeks. I asked the tobacconist and he told me that the teacher committed suicide. He lived alone and one day in winter break he fasted a while and went to the woods, deep into the woods. He laid down on the ground, in a sleeping bag, too thin for that season. Read some books till dawn, fell asleep. It was a very cold winter and he froze to death.

Some years have passed since then. But I did not forget him nor his special choice of death.

Little Dragon - Twice

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2 comments or Leave a comment
faust_iii From: faust_iii Date: December 17th, 2009 07:39 pm (UTC) (Link)

Ort der Leere

For me the most compatible and 'agréable' way of "going to death".

A couple of years ago I wrote a posting regarding the same event of a stranger. Read it:

The "Einmaleins" of Wolfgang Weihrauch had a significant place in my teen age thinking - and has it still until today ...

What an incredible and empathic video!

dalaruan From: dalaruan Date: January 6th, 2010 07:42 am (UTC) (Link)

Re: Ort der Leere

Thank you for this poem, my dear M.
Maybe he knew it...sounds like that.
2 comments or Leave a comment