I Know Someone Who Committed Suicide
I still find myself wondering about a situation I encountered years ago.
I was at a party. A writer was there who had once won a Pulitzer prize back during the Depression era. I knew that both of his two sons had committed suicide 10 years apart. He was divorced but on good terms with his ex-wife.
I saw him standing and talking quietly with two men. It was a serious conversation. As I passed by, I heard him say to the two men, "You know, both of my sons committed suicide and they both left notes blaming it on me." He spoke in a voice of solemn pride.
The two men nodded their heads slowly and respectfully. They looked at him with quiet admiration.
What could make a man proud of driving his sons to suicide? Or at least writing notes blaming him? And what made the two men listening so respectful?
(For context, you can read about the elite deviant world I grew up in under: I Wan To Know What Is Behind My Family's Lies and Secrets).
I was at a party. A writer was there who had once won a Pulitzer prize back during the Depression era. I knew that both of his two sons had committed suicide 10 years apart. He was divorced but on good terms with his ex-wife.
I saw him standing and talking quietly with two men. It was a serious conversation. As I passed by, I heard him say to the two men, "You know, both of my sons committed suicide and they both left notes blaming it on me." He spoke in a voice of solemn pride.
The two men nodded their heads slowly and respectfully. They looked at him with quiet admiration.
What could make a man proud of driving his sons to suicide? Or at least writing notes blaming him? And what made the two men listening so respectful?
(For context, you can read about the elite deviant world I grew up in under: I Wan To Know What Is Behind My Family's Lies and Secrets).
70-79, F
