The End Of Writing

It is quite an honor roll of famous writers who committed suicide. Ernest Hemingway. Sylvia Plath. Hunter Thompson. David Foster Wallace. I can’t help but wonder if it is because nothing you ever write will be read as carefully as a suicide note.

Nobody pays any mind to a “I am going to wake up each morning and continue to persevere” note. But when someone offs themselves, all of a sudden their words seem more significant. People dig through each sentence searching for reasons and answers in a way different from when someone hands you a grocery list. Then you don’t interpret why they listed granola before peanut butter and after shampoo, but a suicide note forces examination. And what do writers want more then to be read and to have their writings be taken seriously?

A rational mind knows this is because of the finality of suicide. This is the last form of communication this person will ever have with us. But really the way this whole life thing works each form of communication could be our last.  And in almost every instance we can learn more from people that keep up the good fight rather than those that give in.

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One thought on “The End Of Writing

  1. “Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year” wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson. “No man has learned anything rightly,until he knows that every day is Doomsday”.

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