Vex Appeal

suicide as rabbithole, trailhead

from overqualified:

I am writing to apply for the position as a Warehouse Assistant because “Warehouse Assistant” sounds so innocuous, so unassuming. I am writing to apply for the position of Warehouse assistant because this morning was the first time I ever thought seriously about killing myself, and if I’m going to do it, I want to do it right. I’m not going to do this half assed. I have a plan.

I want the newspaper listing of my death to start off with “Joey Comeau, a hard working family man, who, in addition to his office job, worked weekends as a warehouse assistant in the suburbs to make ends meet, killed himself today.” I’ll leave a note for the police, with a list of names, some of them underlined in red. At the top of the list it will say “I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. The public is in danger.” When they investigate, they’ll find that these are people from my past, but they won’t remember me.

After time the police will realize that these men and women all work for companies that have at one time used the warehouse I’m working in. This second connection will be the clincher. When they can find nothing there, they’ll look deeper, they’ll start finding connections of their own, connections that are nothing more than coincidence. The human brain is a pattern recognition machine.

If suicide is all I have left, it has to be something more than just spectacular or horrifying. My suicide has to be everything my life should have been. My suicide has to be my legacy. It has to be a mystery, a quest, a story. It has to be a legacy…

Of course this was so dark he had to stop sending the letters. Such is life.