Vol 1 - "A Potential" Metrotown Skytrain Suicide - Saturday June 14th, 08

This is the original article I wrote.
It's quite a bit longer than the one I edited for my pamphlet.
It goes into more detail on the conversations I had with the Translink reps, the driver, and more examples of the distinctly unique way my mind functions.
I'm a "Free Thinker".
The Business World encourages free thinking to.
It tells people to "Think Outside The Box", just as long as it's not too much.
That's not free thinking. That's "long leash" thinking.
One word : yuck.

Here's the article in its entirety.
I'll be the 1st to admit, it's sad reading, but, ignoring our problems just isn't working is it?
Talking about our problems is the solution, to all the world's problems. (period)

I think somebody killed themselves today at Metrotown Skytrain Station. I imagine that they probably threw themselves onto the track just before the train arrived. Whether somebody did or did not though is irrelevant to what I want to say in this article. For the purpose of this article, I am of the mindset that somebody did commit suicide today, just 2 Skytrain stops away from me.

I was waiting for the 106 heading Northwest along Kingsway to Metrotown. It was around Noon, the sun had gotten quite bright, and it was becoming warm. I wasn't too concerned about the UV radiation that was pelting me since I had on my Legionnaire Hat (a baseball cap with a cape that protects the back of the neck and ears) and my sunglasses. I did worry about the majority of people around me who weren't wearing a hat or sunglasses. The sun wrinkles the skin, and wrinkles look ugly. I wanted to tell that to everybody around me, but I wasn't feeling strong enough to deal with the possibility of being told to, "mind my own business" or some equivalent irritated remark, so I kept my worry to myself. Wrinkles do look so ugly though...

The 106 was taking quite a while to pass by, and when it finally did, it was absolutely full. "Strange", I thought, but I waited for the next one. It was also so full that I wasn't able to get on. "Must be because it's so sunny, everyone wants to get out," I reflected to myself and decided to go down to Edmonds Skytrain instead to get to 22nd Station.

I called Translink to ask about what bus I take from 22nd to get across the Port Mann Bridge, and during the conversation, the friendly lady I was talking to said, "sorry," for something silly, like putting me on hold or something. I'm on a quest to help humanity mature past this suffocating, competition-driven, kindness-starved society we've created, and I told the nice lady to please not apologize to me for something so ridiculous. I also feel compelled to apologize all the time because of my life, and I don't like it, it makes me feel like I'm apologizing just for being alive, and I told the Translink lady so. She agreed and I concluded with telling her, we were both good people just doing our best to survive in a cold society. She smiled through the phone and I felt a little happiness in having found someone else who feels that something is very wrong with our society.

The 106 to Edmonds arrived and I boarded. When I arrived at Edmonds I was surprised to see something different. Yellow Police tape blocking off the steps to the platform for the train heading to King George (22nd Station for me this time). The 3 police officers gathered together, looking serious, talking, guns on hips (guns always draw my attention. do we human beings really need to control one another with the threat of imminent death? i do not believe we are so limited a creature. i believe we have all the resources we need to be able to interact with one another peaceably and lovingly. the resorting to violence is a product of stifled and stymied and stunted communication.) were nothing special (how sad...).

I found myself bothered. How was I going to get to 22nd station now? I decided to catch the train West to Royal Oak and cross to the opposite side there and head back East towards 22nd. I boarded the skytrain heading towards Royal Oak, sat down, and found myself surprised again when it proceeded to head towards 22nd station. "Wha???", I thought to myself. I looked at my fellow passengers and they seemed mildly surprised too. I didn't talk to anyone though. It just wasn't really all that interesting. A small blip in the everday monotony, nothing more. sigh. How empty is life...

Upon arriving at 22nd station, I walked down the steps and headed towards my bus bay. I saw one of the poor Skytrain fellows whose job it is to clean the stations (sigh...what a waste of human potential) and asked him if he knew why the trains were running in the opposite direction. He told me that apparently there'd been a medical emergency at Metrotown. I asked him for more specifics, but he didn't have any. I thanked him and felt sad the poor guy was relegated to such a menial task. Human beings are capable of so much. It's criminal that the vast majority of us are occupied with tasks that do not even begin to tap our unlimited potential. sigh.

I already found myself imagining a suicide at Metrotown. A medical emergency which forced the trains to run on one track. I was nearly certain of it, though it saddened my heart. Even sadder though is that the thought did not sadden my heart overmuch, so desensitized am I to pain, both my own and that of others.

I made my way over to my Bay and checked out a hot Asian girl in short-shorts. It was a funny thing. Someone had likely lost all hope in this cold world and ended their life, and here I was checking out a girl's lovely legs. I could understand the poor lost soul though, I was looking at the girl surreptitiously, not wanting to offend her by staring, not wanting to stop staring, wanting to go up and say, "Hi! You're hot.", but not wanting to be looked at in disgust and told to do the world a favor and go jump in front of a train... (i do not doubt the poor fellow human being who had just died had had similar experiences reeling in the society-imposed turmoil of interacting with the opposite sex and struggling to deal with all the repressed sexual tension eating away at all of our loins, but, having been raised not to express it much at all...enough to drive anyone, to die).

I decided to phone Translink again and confirm what had happened. I talked to another nice lady. She told me that there had been a medical emergency but that she also had no further details. I told her what I suspected, she told me she suspected the same. We both were quiet a moment. I told her I was sad, she said she was too. I told her I could understand somebody killing themselves in this cold world. She told me that stuff like what had likely happened didn't have to happen, that people needed to talk to each other, engage their listening skills, and not hold everything in. I told her it was very hard to do. I myself have a great deal of inhibition towards crying. I find it extremely hard and painful to do (I do not think I am unique in this). "Boys don't cry," is an admonition I remember keenly from my childhood, that along with other "rules", both overt and suggested, have created layer upon layer of repression in my shedding of tears. I told the lady though, when I actually manage to cry, it feels like a great release. The poor lady nodded sadly through the phone, adding she would love to talk more, but the phone lines were absolutely full, likely with calls relating to what had happened at Metrotown. I sincerely wished her well and that humanity would begin to express its feelings freely and she returned the wishes.

I was a feeling a mixture of sadness and gratitude. Sadness at the likely death. Gratitude that I had talked to another Translink person who cared.

A family consisting of a Grandfather and his two Grandkids walked up to the bus bay. The Grandfather asked me if I knew which bus would take them to Granville. I didn't but I offered to call Translink and ask on their behalf. The bus arrived though, and I suggested the Grandfather ask the driver. I got on. And the Grandfather explained that the Skytrain didn't move downtown anymore. The driver suggested that the Grandfather take the Skytrain to King George, transfer to the Millenium Line and then get off at Commercial and transfer back onto the Expo Line to go to Granville. The Grandfather understood and headed off. It was strange, but the Grandfather was white, but one of his Grandkids was Chinese. Maybe it wasn't his Grandchild after all...

I asked the driver if he knew why the Skytrain wasn't running normally. He said he did. I asked him what he thought had happened. He said that all he had heard was that it was a medical emergency, but that when the Skytrain was reduced to one track, suicide was the common reason. I thus assumed this wasn't the first time someone had ended their life on the Skytrain tracks.

I proceeded to have a sad conversation with the driver. I told him that it didn't surprise me that someone had decided to end their life. A few years ago that could have been me. I was suicidal for a while. I still think about it from time to time. I do not feel at all happy. In fact, I feel miserable all the time. I am able to function, work, eat, sleep, act in a socially acceptable fashion, but, I do not deceive myself into thinking this is : happiness. One thing contemplating death gives you is : clarity. You either find a reason to live, or, you die. which was the case of the poor soul at Metrotown.

The driver proceeded to tell me that a friend of his had killed himself a short while ago. He never suspected it. His friend never let on something was bothering him so much. I told the driver I did not doubt that many people, far more than we could imagine, are thinking of suicide at this very moment.

In Japan, 30,000 people a year kill themselves. That's a small town. Many of these desperately sad souls throw themselves in front of the trains that are so vital to Japan's transportation system. Japan is famous for its exam hell, where high school students must pass a brutal exam to enter University. Failure is a dishonor to the family. The pressure is monstrous and suicide is commonplace. All for what? Because Japanese society demands these poor kids memorize a bunch of useless data, spew it on a test, forget all about the agonizing experience, and for the lucky percent that make it into a University, they are rewarded by the ease and partying. Pain before Pleasure huh? Too bad for all the casualties. Too bad the ones who make it into university will for the rest of their life be motivated by the fear of failure and probably drink, do drugs, beat their wives and engage in other forms of expressing the resentment and sadness they feel at having been forced to so cruelly subvert themselves just to please a cold and calculating society.

I told the driver about Japan. He already knew, nodding his head sadly. The poor fellow said he would rather not speak on this further. I said I understood. Talking about all the pain we keep buried inside is painful. We are raised not to talk about it. When we make a fuss in school we're told not to cause a disturbance and either sent home or to the counsellor's office or a classroom or away : somewhere. just, go away. (suicide is definitely a way to just : go away, isn't it?)

The driver told me that it was a lucky thing that people didn't commit suicide on the Skytrain everyday, otherwise, people's daily schedules would be ruined. By now, I was feeling very sad and angry and empathizing with everyone who thinks about killing themselves because I know where they're coming from. I told the driver that it would be a sad thing if someone killed themselves on the Skytrain everyday, but, it would force our society, it would force us to acknowledge that something is very, very, very wrong. All those people's deaths would not be in vain. They would send a clear message to those of us still alive, that fellow human beings were wallowing in despair amongst them, and that ignoring all this pain was not resolving anything.
I was reminded of what Rambo said in his latest movie, "You're either living for nothing, or dying for something." It's become a rallying slogan for the oppressed people of Burma, so many of whom have died for democracy. sigh. All this pain.

I told the driver I had an expression, "The nature of pressure is, that it must find release." All the emotional pain that we have been raised to suppress must find expression somehow, and since it does not find expression in the way that is natural and healthy for us human beings : screaming. talking about our pain. crying. We express it in sublimated ways, most often : violent. Pressure must find release. I know this first hand from the pain I have held back inside my chest my whole life. I do not think I am alone in this.

The poor driver took off his sunglasses and wiped his eyes. I looked away. I felt ashamed for doing so, but I have too many inhibitions against crying or witnessing others cry. Crying is weakness. The weak are prey for the strong. If you cry, you will become prey. Am I crazy for thinking this? I do not think so. And. It is the truth of how I feel, and thus, immutable.

I arrived at my stop. The driver told me to take care with a choked voice. I felt some tears rise up and choked them back and said take care in a cracked voice too.

I have learned a great deal of control over my emotions since the year when I was contemplating my death. I can function perfectly in spite of the fact that my soul is weary and my heart ladened with sadness. In a Capitalist society, we are all expected to perform our functions, do our jobs, pay our taxes, keep our noses clean. How we feel is irrelevant. Production is the name of the game. Profit is the bottom line. "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." What's that horrible show called? "Hell's Kitchen." Capitalism at its most disgusting glorified for all to gawk at in grim fascination. The poor host looks angry doesn't he? But the ratings demand he stay angry, and if possible get angrier. All in the name of profit. After all, "Life's tough. Deal with it." and "The strong survive, the weak perish." and "Those who cannot do, teach." (...well. maybe not that one exactly. ha. ha. trying to insert a little funny...never mind.)

Our species is in brutal denial of our feelings.
My feelings are tied up in knots inside of me. I feel choked. Strangled. Suffocated.
I feel like I am far more dead than alive.
I love Zombie movies because I feel that is the truth of my society. We are the living dead. Denied of our feelings, we are little more than walking corpses animated by an endless hunger to "consume".
It's all horrible and terrifying and dark...very,very...dark.

But. The release is simple. Talk about our feelings. That's it. All the problems of the world : solved.
People killing themselves at Metrotown station? Won't happen anymore.
Why? Because human beings are integrally interwoven with human feelings.
You cannot separate the human being, from the human feeling.
Doing so creates a fundamental instability in the human psyche.
I've always felt that everyone in our society is kind of neurotic. I have an answer as to why now.

I don't know if someone actually killed themselves at Metrotown, this Saturday June 14th, 2008, but, I can envision it having happened, and I had a bunch of experiences that were conducted under the assumption that something did happen, and 'they' were real experiences, which made me think and FEEL everything written here and more.

I just want to be happy. I just want everyone else to be happy. The Capitalist system is not it. Damming up our feelings is not it. We need to express our feelings freely, openly, without fear of rebuke and retribution. We need to change our societal system to a Humanist one, one based on the principle that all human beings are noble creatures. I know. I know. It's hard to feel that way. You know why? Your feelings are all choked up inside of you too and you are so angry about it because doing so denies, fundamentally, who you are, and it just makes you so angry. Who is repsonsible? All of us. Your fellow human beings. Your society. Why should you believe that any of us are noble or naturally kind and loving? I didn't. I know where you're coming from.

I don't show my feelings much still. I just know I want to. Why did I write this article? To share my thoughts and feelings with my fellow human beings. Why else am I here? You guys and girls are all I have. You're all I ever wanted too. My other option is ending it all, but I want to try to do something with my life before that. It's always an option though, and as horrible as it may seem, it did bring me clarity.
One final thought, "You do not truly appreciate life, until you nearly experience death." (if you fully experienced death of course...well, you'd be, you know, dead. funny? yeagh...i got to work on that. hee. hee.)