knowing z0tl as I do, however that may be, or not to be, there is no question that he's bound to erase his notes sooner or later, at least he's bound to if he's alive next month... bound to being determined by statistical probability compiled by many supercomputers and mice, for it requires equations of the magnitude reaching the mathematics of psychohistory (but no one except Hari is supposed to know for too many variables would through the predictability into an infinite spiral beyond time and space, so forget psychohistory), given that it has been the case every time before and, just in case...

I have decided to take the unprecedented (unless you can find precedents, other than the time I quote a conversation with the man somehere in the archives of candora a couple of years back when his provocation was inspiring a change of winds in the land of fairy tale love, but those were my notes) step of reproducing, without permission (so sue me), all the notes up to this moment (this moment being a few days into the future) left for the gifted irreverent one (and just think, tributes like these usually don't happen until after one's dead... premature eulogization?)...

if you do anything over your summer vacation, you really should make time to read all 2000 entries... I'd like to see three or four or five thousand entries eventually, but that might not be possible for, as I've often said, the dead can not journal... of course I could be wrong and that would be great, but just in case I am right, I selfishly wish a cure for suicidal depression would be found post haste, before, even...

it may make no difference... after all, someone who wishes to leave this life is going to leave (even if it's their husband or wife who is stating theirwishes for them after they've slipped into a state of questionable awareness and foggy legal weather, but that's another story that reminds us everyone should have an iron clad alibi, I mean legal will and living will... or else the media might throw a party for themselves in your dishonor and not even bother dressing you for it)...

but I digress... as it is, the worst thing you could probably do for a person wishing to die is lay some spiritual guilt trip on them or talk to them in foreign languages or in judgmental tones in any language... whatever your moral or ethical perspectives, don't dump your load on a person already feeling buried by other emotional baggage, unless, of course, you want the person to off themselves (bloody hypocrits)...

meanwhile, z0tl has lead me to ponder mortality and whether life is worth living... there've been times when I gave up, when I laid on the sidewalk and went to sleep not knowing, perhaps not caring if I woke again... there was a time when I walked into my closet and curled up and did not emerge for days... the smell was awful (no joke, a bladder must be released)... yes, I've been to quite dramatic and, by most standards, disgusting extremes in this life... I know where bottom is, I've hit it more than once...

being the most stubborn (and selfish) child I've ever met (when I want to be), I refused to take an easy way out... maybe it's the martyr in me who chose to suffer for as long as the suffering would last (on some levels, it never ends)... I refused to die... all the drinking/drugs I did to escape and explore alternative perspectives, to find a way out of the bottomless pits of despair, somehow did not kill me... but then, I might not have cared whether I lived or not, but it was not my intention to die...

so I carry that weight... still wanting to believe that there's still a way back home (once there was a way)... and wanting to believe is all it takes to believe... I stumble through life on blind faith that if I remain alive, there's a better probability that I shall find another true love than if I was dead...

is it irony or a message from somewhere beyond that The Nightmare Before Christmas is currently on the TV as The Beatles Abbey Road plays in my ears... take me back to childhood... and back to the roots of rock and roll... and in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make?...

so I still write loves songs to first loves and others, and keep the dream alive by fantasizing about people based on the words and images I find online... heck, I am in the middle of trying to built a great fantasy right now (but some things are more important than my fantasy life... my heart will go on...

I do not know the answer... maybe if a thousand people flood the notes with hellos and love and well wishes and... maybe if a few good people actually read the words and respond with definitive proof that there is more value in life than in death... maybe if one person choose to fall in love and comes with a love so true that it heals the damage done... these all sound like things that I'd sure love to try out on myself when I find the dark mouth of despair threatening to swallow me again... but these things are not for me to do, after all...

I do not know the answer for myself, so I surely do not know the answer for anyone else... is just caring, truly openly honestly unconditionally caring, enough?...