On saving the World.

I am not sure why but I feel like writing. No one reads this so it feels safe. Like a secret that is also public.

I just read and watched everything I found on Aaron Swartz. He was 'The Internet's Boy'. I am moved. I feel this incredible kinship with this child-man. In one respect, I cannot believe I hadn't learned of him sooner. Further proof that, even though I like to consider myself internet savvy - I'm actually woefully naive to everything it is.

But in another way, even though I didn't learn about his life or struggle until this week, I am struck with this awesome sadness of having lost a very intimate friend. This complex soul with which I would have connected with on some ultra transcendent level. Selfishly, I imagine 3am conversations of hurried whispers about how to save the world from itself.

It feels like we have struggled with some of the same things in life.

Suicide has this very weird pattern of remaining a constant character in my life. Friends very close to me have inexplicably tied a few basic knots and tiptoed precariously on a chair to their end. The pain is preposterous because even though it hurts 'me' to a ludicrous amount we are told over and over that their own pain must have been so much worse than we could ever fathom.

But I wonder if that is true. Is it true that they were actually hurting? Mentally or physically? Achingly sad? Or were they confused. Or were they finally seduced by that comforting, quiet place that yawns wide on the edge of our chaotic consciousness. Every case I come to feels like the latter of these. It doesn't feel like they were sad but more-so just... done. Done fighting that temptation.

I suspect there is some lurking clue in this as to what it holds for a 'cure' against suicide. Or conversely, it tells the inevitable truth that suicide is and will always be a constant as long as we have the ability to enact our own free will.