To all who are interested,

Please be tender when you cut me down. My panty girdles are fastened to my brassière with safety pins. There are no hooks on the garter belts so you will have to pull them off. I am going to stand on the telephone books on a chair and use 50 feet of rope, truss myself as tightly as possible. I'm putting a pair of panties in my mouth, pulling a nylon over my face, and placing two false rubber breast pads wet over my nose and mouth - two or three turns of rope around my neck over the bar, back around my neck, closing the closet door. I'm going to set fire to the hems of the slips and then bind my hands behind me, then I will kick the phone books away and madly await the end. Since I'm no good with computers and all that digital stuff I recorded some tunes for about 44' 44" on a trustworthy C-90 audio cassette. My body is carefully perfumed and powdered. The nylon slip I stole from the clothes line zippers down and caresses me lovingly. Now I slip the taffeta dress over my head and pull it down over my body. The makeup starts to change my face into feminine softness, no sign of a beard. It takes ten minutes to do the lipstick right. Now my blonde wig transforms me into a woman completely. Now in utter passion I walk about the room, feeling the bite, the pull, the stretching of bras, garters, panties, all working me up to torture. Standing on a chair in the closet, I screw two hooks into the door molding. Next I tie the keys to three padlocks on a string and hang them on a clothes pole at eye level. I put a pair of panties in my mouth that have been soaked with water. Now I pull a stocking down over my head and secure it around my neck with a choker replacing the wig. It certainly makes me feel fiendish. I feel fiendish. Now I stand on the chair and deliberately and tightly padlock one end of the chain around my knees. The free end I pull through one hook and pass it around my neck and snap the padlock shut back under the wig. Now I pass the rest of the chain through the other hook and down my wrists. Standing there in the inky darkness I know my next move. Measuring very carefully, I make ready the open lock and end of the chain. I stand on the very top of the chair. Now I strike a match but I'm so nervous it goes out. The next one will do the job. Quivering with excitement, I just stand and swish the lovely skirts about my legs. I know what I'm going to do next. I'm really terrified by sadistic thrill. It's 9:35 Sunday night and in three minutes I will be dead. I strike the match, reach down and set fire to the gossamer edge of the black nylon slip. Quickly I wrap the chain around my wrists and snap the padlock firmly. In a frenzy of passion, I kick the chair over and my body is spasming at the end of the chain. I come wildly, madly. The pain is intense as my clothes start to burn. My eyes bulge and I try to reach the keys, knowing I have finally found the courage to end a horrible nightmare life in danger.

Carl Cryplant.

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Suicide is Painless by Johnny Mandel & Mike Altman beaten on the beat with Lithium by Nirvana overscreamed with Nonalignment Pact by Pere Ubu tailed with Theme by Public Image Ltd spread over with The Bed by Lou Reed shortly faded with Gloomy Sunday by Reszo Seress (performed by Paul Whiteman) overdoomed with Frankie Teardrop by Suicide ended with A Means to an End by Joy Division walking into Murder in the Air (act 2) by Lol Coxhill.

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