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May 8, 2001—Paris, France

Pills Whiskey A little pot I’ about how I’ about the ht here in the living room About the bottle, the pills Justthe pills onThinking about how to do it Nothing else Not about Dad, not about Moht here Me andMom and Dad will understand Maybe I don’t care whether they understand No, don’t think about them Think about no one

Today it’s my choice I don’t want this life anymore It’s torture, an insult It’s my choice And I choose to end it Today I’m in control

If I’et up, to stop everything, I’ll think of her The one who is life itself and who rejected me Not about the others, who love me, but about the one who doesn’t, doesn’t want to love me Who won’t even try Her satin skin, her eiven so freely to those who coony But it’s not just her beauty Everything about her destroyedme into oblivion The oblivion of death or the emptiness of my life What’s the difference?

God,to you? Are you there? Have you been there all along? Did you hear my prayers? Come on, God, let’s be honest How can a God of mercy put such a creature so close to me and at the same time keep her from me? What’s the point? ToI don’t even want to live Are you proud of yourself? I’ youbut the abyss, so that’s where I’

I’m not afraid

I’ papers are still sher Get away froet away froht, lulled by the sh the pills That’s how to do it I’ Not from fear

Just a fewof her

I decided to tell her everything Today, on my twentieth birthday Cast off my doubts and finally know I practiced…Did I need to practice? I had no shortage of words for her But she didn’t hear me She didn’t want to hear es of the story

“But ere nine, Jere

Ten, actually That’s not too young, ten years old I was madly in love with her And she likedmore than iance, a sweetBut for ht of our last suether

“We were friends I confided in you”

What torture, the role I had to play all those years just to be near her Watching all those little show-offs strut their beauty, their physiques She likedthem happy

So I pulled away I tried to forget her In vain The pain, the hope Like I was suffocating I needed everything to end On my twentieth birthday An ultimatum I’d set when the wait became unbearable