Spectacular Views

I'm not suicidal, I swear. I just found myself standing on the top of a parking garage, one of those huge monstrosities you find at malls, looking out over the edge and wondering what my splattered body would look like.

I rarely go to the mall. I don't like the crowds there, the people all packed together. It was the same when I used to take public transportation -- riding the bus was like being inside a sardine can. Sometimes I couldn't breath and I had to get out early.

But today I had to go to the mall. When I moved out, I took all my clothes, but when I came back for the funeral, I didn't bring that much. Just a change of clothes and a suit. I've been relying on washing one pair of clothes while I wear the other all this time, but yesterday, I found a big rip in one of my jeans. So: off to the mall.

It was crowded, so I had to park at the top of the parking garage. And then, I don't know why, I looked down from the edge and I pictured my dead body on the pavement below.

I shook my head to fling away the bad thoughts. I walked down through the garage and I walked towards the opulent doors to the mall where I could already see giant crowds of people.

And as I walked, their faces peeled away, their bodies twisted, and they all became faceless and formless.

I ran away. Of course I ran away. Wouldn't you? I ran back to my car and I sat there trying to breath, trying to prove to myself I wasn't crazy. It's just your imagination, that's all. You're just imagining things.

But "imagining" is just a short jump to "hallucinating" and that equals crazy, right? Or I have some sort of sickness. Did my mom have the same sickness?

...is that why she committed suicide?

See you later,
Lonny