My Life Before I Decided to Commit Suicide is a collection of slightly embellished personal experiences from my youth, adolescent and young adult years. It begins as almost any young boy's life begins; with a mischievous exploration of one's surroundings. I truly believe that I'm born with superpowers and a unique understanding of life that few people, if any, possess. However, in the long run, my gifts cannot protect me from life's greatest challenges: finding love and friendship.
The purpose behind My Life is two-fold. To provide a glimmer of resolve for all those insecure souls contemplating suicide as I once did, and to provide a unique look at how silly life's foibles really are. Hang in there is my advice. All of the crappy stuff will soon pass. Everything thereafter is pretty darn good.
I was born in Auburn, NY. A sleepy little village surrounded by farm land, gigantic trees, flowing creeks, streams and rivers nestled against the northern tip of Owasco Lake. A 'finger' among New York's Finger Lakes. Members of the Onondaga Nation tell the story of the lakes origin this way, "...the Creator looked down upon this land with special favor and upon reaching out to bless it, left his hand prints." Apparently we're not quite in the image of our Creator because there are eleven Finger Lakes.
On the day of my birth, September 11, 1954, the headline of the Auburn Citizen Advisor read, "New York Drenched as Hurricane [Edna] Passes." Perhaps this was a telling sign of the future of those born on this cold and soggy day. I don't care what anybody says, a constant barrage of dark, rain-filled clouds is burdensome. These clouds are the reason so many New Yorkers have poor posture - everyone slogs along hunched over with their head pitched down against the wind, rain and snow.
The purpose behind My Life is two-fold. To provide a glimmer of resolve for all those insecure souls contemplating suicide as I once did, and to provide a unique look at how silly life's foibles really are. Hang in there is my advice. All of the crappy stuff will soon pass. Everything thereafter is pretty darn good.
I was born in Auburn, NY. A sleepy little village surrounded by farm land, gigantic trees, flowing creeks, streams and rivers nestled against the northern tip of Owasco Lake. A 'finger' among New York's Finger Lakes. Members of the Onondaga Nation tell the story of the lakes origin this way, "...the Creator looked down upon this land with special favor and upon reaching out to bless it, left his hand prints." Apparently we're not quite in the image of our Creator because there are eleven Finger Lakes.
On the day of my birth, September 11, 1954, the headline of the Auburn Citizen Advisor read, "New York Drenched as Hurricane [Edna] Passes." Perhaps this was a telling sign of the future of those born on this cold and soggy day. I don't care what anybody says, a constant barrage of dark, rain-filled clouds is burdensome. These clouds are the reason so many New Yorkers have poor posture - everyone slogs along hunched over with their head pitched down against the wind, rain and snow.
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