First of all, don’t panic–this is not, and is not helpful if it is interpreted as, some sort of cry for help.
Second, by any means anyone can use to evaluate it, I am running out of time; I will not have sufficient time left in my life, independent of how long it may last after writing this, and totally without regard to how my life is lost, to accomplish enough to feel I have made sufficient progress on “saving the world.”
But, when it’s over for me, it will be over. So I’m running out of time. Therefore I must speak with total abandon. Sometimes that will scare you, and sometimes outrage you, for I may show authority where only I am sure of its appropriateness.
If I have anything I regret, it is that I had to run out of time for me to begin to express what I have to say with authority. It was a failure of faith.
Another factor thwarting being heard is the lack of options. Or at least the lack of options as perceived by most people today.
Most of us realize that, practically speaking, there are simply too many people, and they are reproducing too quickly for us to do anything to prevent utter collapse. Yesterday alone the world population increased by about 220,000 people. Happens every day. Except, of course, the number gets larger every day. Even if the rate slows. The basis has grown too much in the same time frame.
That’s terrifying. And it’s even more so when you also realize we are talking about the death of the Lifeforce itself, not just humanity. That is our topic, after all, whether you believe in it or not. And that’s such a horrific idea virtually no one will entertain it.
The only logical response to a scenario that acknowledges the inevitable death of the Lifeforce on this planet that holds any hope, other than the denial of the possibility of its being inevitable, is salvaging something by moving it to another planet.
Yet most either think of that as impossible or off task.
I assume those who think it off task must think it unnecessary. Surely they are either in denial of the eventual collapse or the possible extent of the damage. Those who think it impossible aren’t giving humanity the credit the Apollo moon missions showed it is due.
But one other thing Apollo showed is also being ignored: the magnitude of commitment, time, and devoted energy required for such a task can’t be underestimated or assumed to be something which will evolve automatically.
The only way it’s possible to preserve Gaia now, is to realize that our best chance of doing so–perhaps our only chance of doing so–is to energetically embrace the option of getting off the planet.
My intent in self immolating –and my only reason for doing it–is to call public awareness to this, my only Message.
The Message is a cause for which I will gladly die. But that’s so much easier said than done that few will believe it unless the proof is presented in the form of blistered flesh. And, even then, many will invent their own interpretations, such as depression or “Christ complex,” to avoid thinking about whether the cause for which I die was worth dying for.
I really don’t want to die. And I really, really don’t want to die in the pain burn victims suffer. So it’s all the more important to me that my death not be dismissed in such a manner. It’s certainly not anything trivial to me.
Some suicide note. “He didn’t want to do it, folks!”
Anyway, right now the timing is about as good as it gets, save the “having laid the groundwork” part. I’ve fewer close relationships at the moment than I think I ever have had before. That means there are fewer people my suicide will hurt than usual, and their hurt will be substantially less than it would have been when those who do still feel close to me were closer.
At east, so I pray. I’m so sorry. This is no one else’s fault. It was just that I was the one who saw the future. It wasn’t someone else. It was me.
Of course, this all hints at depression lying behind my thinking, so I’ll have to try to get a better grip on that before striking the match. Yet another caveat!
I wonder how much of this might just be some form of “Drama-king” behavior–a crass attempt to gain sympathy. I can barely see a difference between this note and the “god is going to take me if I don’t raise $1,000,000 (or whatever) by January 1st” proclamations that some televangelists made not so long ago. Not unless this pretense finds itself being my fiery end.
Scarier yet, committing this to paper puts more pressure on me to “walk the walk.” I’m definitely painting myself into a corner here: by publishing this, I make it harder not to do it.
And what if I wait too long? What if I’ve built new and deep relationships by the time I realize I’ve got to do it or miss the chance through losing my ability? I saw exactly that happen to one of my best friends, who died of Lou Gehrig’s disease. But it can happen in an alarmingly large number of ways. And most. it seems, are done before you even know they’ve begun.
Okay, this is getting out of hand. Overwhelming, even. Again.
Maybe I should just concentrate on laying groundwork, for now.