contemplativethe pleasure's mine, I give you time
I give you time to screw around
I give you time
I give you time to kiss the ground
I give you time
I give you time to value what you found
But most of all, my friend, I give you time
But what if time isn't really what's needed?
I've been thinking about suicide. How our society views it, how my work looks at it, how much we are all so very afraid of death.
Maybe I'm just jaded, having to deal with suicidal people fairly often, having considered it in the past, but I don't see suicide as the great tragedy that the rest of the world does. Why are we all offended that someone wants to stop living? Why do we all assume that there is something wrong with an individual that no longer wants to live? Come on, this world isn't exactly Utopia. Why shouldn't we respect someone's right to no longer play the game? Let them pack up their toys and go home, to start over again. We respect religious differences (well, some of us do), but we draw the line at letting someone follow through on their beliefs, to seek an afterlife or rebirth.
I can't say anymore that every life is worth living, that life itself is inherently valuable. There comes a point when I look at a life that is always waiting for that brighter tomorrow, hooked on the millenium, and I wish for them peace wherever they can find it.
I think too much (or not enough depending on where you are standing)
what was dark so long, had felt like winter
finally there's sun
and so I sing that I feel so much spring
