In America we keep everything in and pay a shrink (rent a friend) to listen. That way our friends and family don't pass judgment on us. I am a talker. In fact I talk way too much as this post demonstrates. I have the problem of acting too familiar (different then friendly) with people and it makes them uncomfortable, but keeping shit inside is bad for your health. I feel you should always have someone to confide in, someone who loves you no matter what and for me that is family and one or two friends. I have many friends, but most are somewhat conditional. When the shit hits the fan and the plane is going down, they jump and pull the cords on their parachutes. My family will go down with me and I am really lucky to have that in life. They have pulled me out of many a gutter, brushed me off and pushed me back out into the world with a go get’em kiddo.

When I was 12 I walked into a garage on the property next door and found our neighbor's car running. There was a pool vacuum hose attached from the tail pipe and wedged into the driver’s side window. My neighbor was sitting there in the driver’s seat. He had a blanket over him and a Bible clutched in his hands. I reached in and turned off the ignition staring in disbelief. I still remember the smell of rich exhaust that filled the car and the surrounding garage. It was the first dead person that I ever witnessed.

Six years ago a friend of mine was accepted to Vanderbilt Law. Like me when I was accepted to grad school my friend bought a motorcycle, but he decided to travel to Patagonia on it. I rode around Manhattan he hit mule in Mexico and broke his spine paralyzing himself from the tits down. He lay in the dirt for 2 days and in a shit-hole hospital for another four until they airlifted him out. He was miserable and I don't blame him. He was pissing in one bag shitting in another. One day during a class presentation his bag overfilled and he pissed all over himself in front of everyone in a packed auditorium.

He lasted almost two years. One night without telling anyone due to fear he would be institutionalized he lay on his bed and sliced his belly from front to back pinging the blade against what he thought was his spine. While he bled out he continued to write in a diary. His last words were "I have to stop writing as I am getting dizzy". He wrote a 45 page manifesto in favor of euthanasia. At first I felt guilty. I was thinking I should have called him more and that if I were a better friend he would have never done it, but that is narcissistic. Who the fuck am I? Now I just wished I could have held his hand so he would not have to have taken that journey on his own. It is fucking sad.

I am a pretty normal "happy-go-lucky" guy, but there are days when I feel like a lone wolf in NYC. One is surrounded by people, but totally alone. I can call, text, e-mail etc. anyone I want. I have friends to go out and get a drink with, eat dinner with. I have a few girlfriends I can call to grab dinner and a movie with the occasional "good time" afterwards. I think what we all want is a real connection to someone else. I think the quality of our relationships have deteriorated over time as we need each other less and less. Who needs a husband or wife? Men and women both work and can support themselves. Our food is handed to us at the supermarket we don't have to work the land. We don't even need each other to have children anymore as a turkey baster and a donor/surrogate can replace it all. More and more people live alone satisfying every whim and doing their best not to sacrifice a single pleasure or freedom. Maybe Hollywood has deluded us into thinking that there is this perfect love out there with infinite happiness and all we have to do is find it.

I can say that no matter how alone I may feel on occasion I cannot even begin to think how alone the two gentlemen I knew must have felt when they took their lives or anyone who decides to make that choice. That must suck and it is a shame that people have to die with no one around to comfort them. That is truly tragic.

J