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     | |      c   o   m   m   u   n   i   c   a   t   i   o   n   s     | |
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  ...presents...              Yet Another Suicide
                                                         by The Mad Hatter

                      >>> a cDc publication.......1993 <<<
                        -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
  ____       _     ____       _       ____       _     ____       _       ____

     There he sat.  For quite awhile, all he did was sit and stare at the 
wall.  Funny the texture and shapes the drywall patterns made.  "What's wrong
with me?" he thought.  The man had done some pretty stupid things in his life.
Sure, there were many things that he had done that shouldn't have won him a
Nobel Prize, but he still didn't understand why he felt this way.  For the past
five years it had become worse.  Tears dripped off his cheeks and turned the
dust on the floor into mud.  It had taken over his soul.  Like a virus, it
crept up his body from the pit of his stomach and spread through his body until
every cell was vomiting rancid bile.  The taste burned his tongue.  He threw up

     A feeling of vertigo overtook him and suddenly he was in the air.  Below,
the whole world spread out.  Flying over a home wherever he was, he heard a
scream.  It sounded like a little girl.  The man morphed through the wall and
saw what looked like a ten year old girl, her bed squeaking under her screams
as what appeared by her hair color to be her father thrust deeper and deeper.
Sickened, he tried to strike the man but was unable to.  His hand passed right
through.  The taste burned his tongue.  Visibly shaken, he flew out through the
ceiling.  A few blocks from where he once was, five bums were yelling and
fighting back and forth.  Nearing them, he realized that the object of their
attention and greed is a rat one of them had caught.  Wildly and with great
vigor they grabbed and pawed at the rat.  One of them happend to grab a leg,
blood spilling from the wound as he ran away gnawing voraciously.  Suddenly,
the owner of the rodent broke free and splashed through the puddles down the
alley, tipping a trash can over and rousting a flock of pigeons.  The man
floated there and stared in wonder at what he had just seen.  Were these people
able to help themselves?  Could it be that they didn't like their lives but
without permanent addresses or clean clothes were unable to escape their
poverty and grotesque existence?  The taste burned his tongue.  He flew over
the ocean for a short time and suddenly appeared over a sprawling, metropolis
of a city.  Standing in another alley he watched as a couple walked through
him.  She leaned  backward with her back to the wall of a building and pulled
up her skirt.  The male unzipped his fly and wildly pumped his groin into the
woman for a couple of minutes, groaned and backed away.  As he zipped up his
fly he handed the woman twenty dollars and walked off.  The woman tucked the
money into her cleavage, smoothed down her skirt, fluffed her hair and walked
back out onto the sidewalk, waiting for another customer.  The depravity.  Did
this woman have no other choice than to sell her body in such a degrading way?
Most women at least get dinner or a movie before getting used as an object for
some man's two minute pleasure.  What was going to happen to this woman when
the makeup didn't hide her age and her breasts were not as firm?  The taste
burned his tongue.  The man flew fast.  He flew over a desert.  Thousands of
people wandered aimlessly.  Closer, he realized that their stomachs were
protruding grotesquely because of malnutrition and starvation.

     "My God!", he exclaimed.  "How can humanity let this happen?"  He morphed
through a tent and saw a gaunt, obviously starving African couple fornicating.
Why are these two doing this when they cannot feed the children they have?
Where is the birth control at least?  Would it not be better to let the sick
die and provide birth control to the survivors?  Wondering if these people
realize what they do, his foot passed through a baby child laying on the hot
sand.  He reached down to try and swipe the flies off the eyes of the screaming
child, but his hand passed right through.  The taste burned his tongue.  In
disgust, the man concentrated intensely, his face contorted in effort.  He
arrived back in his room.  What could he do about everything he had just seen?
He was powerless.  Should he just sit idle like the masses, or could he make a
difference?  No, he felt it was hopeless.  The man started thinking about his
own life.  What had he accomplished in his life?  Where was he?  Nowhere.
Would he ever be where he wanted to be?  He sat and pondered the things he had
done to this point.  He was stuck in the proverbial rut like many other people
he knew.  Worry, about relationships, money, family, and other tribulations of
atypical life.  Oh his family, and people he knew!  If only a person could go
back.  My God, the people he had hurt.  Crushed, injured and ground between his
fingers because they got in his way.  He was different now, much calmer.  No,
you can't go back.  Too bad his life has been such a sham.  He sat for a long
while and wondered if he'll ever get where he wants to be or if his life is any
better than the people he's seen.  He thinks not.  His finger twitched for just
a second.  There was a brief sensation of intense pain as the bullet entered
the roof of his mouth.  Then, only blackness.  Nobody cared anyway....
 _______  __________________________________________________________________
/ _   _ \|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Kingdom of Shit.....806/794-1842|
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  (' ')  |ftp - zero.cypher.com in pub/cdc |ftp - ftp.eff.org in pub/cud/cdc|
   (U)   |==================================================================|
  .ooM   |Copr. 1993 cDc communications by The Mad Hatter      12/30/93-#249|
\_______/|            Save yourself!  Go outside!  DO SOMETHING!            |