Diary of a Cynical Suicide – Part 10

Spread the evil

(A fiction by Sidharth Vardhan.
Please note that I started it as a fiction project that would use the disgusting ugliness to create some sort of literature. It was too close to reality to be worthwhile for anyone. If you are depressed or suicidal or are suspect-able, please avoid reading this diary. Those problems must be fought with all you have and the darkness contained in here can make your problems worse. Its only use can be found in the study of a very unhealthy and disgusting mind who has dumped his failures to find a value for his life in a dairy and ended up painting the whole world in black of his self-piety. The arguments he presents are all highly subjective and debatable and thus should not be considered wise at all. They prove nothing except the fact that he is a pathetic loser. You, whoever, are reading this, are a far superior person and should ask for help which is your birth-right as a human being and should ask for it and know that your life will be beautiful again. Yet I won’t take it offline as that seems to be cowardly. If you are curious, you can find all parts of ‘Diary of a Cynical Suicide’ here. )

diary of a cynical suicide sidharth vardhan fiction

Caring and wanting to care


I am loser for having failed to make the last effort. Guilt and hurt it might cause to those I care about anyway though wanting hard not to, in unlikely circumstances that i am wrong about these people in thinking they could not care less is stopping me.

Deserving and earning


Deserving something or not is a very subjective judgement. Whether or not someone earns something is somewhat more objective.

Fear of nothingness


Two numbers that humanity had trouble discovering were zero and infinity. And the two have a lot in common. But I am not a mathematician to bother talking about that. What interests me is the reason why humanity was unable to discover them for so long. And the answer is that human imagination can’t handle extremes. Of numbers. Of sizes, can anyone truly imagine how large universe is? Or how small an atom is? Of time, what happened at time zero? And on moment when universe ends? Or for that matter when earth ends? And a day not that far away if you believe what scientists have to say. The extremes defy our imagination because we are in habit of thinking in terms of continuity – we must wonder what is smaller and what is larger, the before and after. And thus we must think in terms of souls and ghosts, netherworld and rebirths. How could our knowledge that can’t help being anthromorphic, being self-conscious can think of a time when it is no longer there? It is not death that scares people, it is nothingness that follows. Even the worst illusions of a hell are better to imagine. I too am scared of that nothingness. I wish for death in as far as it will turn all my feelings, all my existence into nothing. But I wish to stay alive somehow through my death. I wish for a sort of posterity and that perhaps is what I hope from these notes. I also wish to know how the world fairs out, whether the Earth and Humanity survives. I wish to know if someone will remember me with tears and longing. Those wishes I don’t see getting fulfiled. But what I would really like is the bad imitation of life.

Pain Letters


I hate this. Why can’t I stop thinking about you? I hate you, I don’t even want to talk to you. I don’t think I can ever trust you again. Even if you were to try come back, I would just ask you to leave me alone. And yet, I keep thinking of you.  And yet I want those efforts at friendship from you to reject. I want you to feel that hurt I feel. How small a person I have become! To hate someone, to envy someone for her happiness. I can’t even pretend that I want you to happy. I want you to suffer as I have felt. Harvey Dent was right when he said either you die a hero or become a villain  I have become a villain. Though I was never a hero but I do wish I was dead by now. 

You said you were busy though you contradicted it later. Just as you contradicted that suggestion of yours that happiness lies only in illusions, when  you said you won’t be happy if you knew the source of happiness is not real and later when you said that you were happier in realty than in illusions. But it is never a question of being busy. It is a question of priorities. I skipped my meals and missed my sleep for you. I just wasnt high enough in your priorities.  And that is what I can’t make my peace with.

You were really closer with sir and friends. You won’t call me from  Sir’s phone because it didn’t seem good for him. But you didn’t tell him that I and you had something. Why? Because it wasn’t ‘serious’ – so much for your songs! And how come you had never problem telling me about when you had sex, when you didn’t have to and when I had explicitly told you not to. Why? Isnt how I feel of any importance to you?

I was always your back up. Ain’t I? When you broke things with zoddie you remembered your feelings for me. Than you found that singer friend and they were gone. When it didn’t work out with singer, you found feeling for me again.  And just as you developed feelings for your sir, they reduced for me. When you found a permanent thing with him you didn’t need back up, so here I am, discarded. One day you want me because you would have so much time, two days later you don’t have time to say goodbye.

And as if that is not enough, here I am. Proving myself even a bigger loser crying and begging you again to come back. To set my mind at rest. Somehow. Anyhow. To have one last fight.

Pain Letters


You kept saying you want me in your life but not enough. Not at price of my dark side. Not that badly. And I don’t blame you. No one wants me badly. It is my fault. I should have known better – better than to yield to your righteous anger and protests that I should show your dark side. Better than to take you at your word when you said I can call you even when you are asleep. I am sorry if that sounds sarcastic because it isn’t. I should have known better. I often forget people don’t really mean it when they tell me how important I am in their life.

But I do maintain you didn’t <I>wish</I> to have my dark side. If it was simply you can’t handle it, you would have struggled, may be even cut calls, but always come back afterward. I understand people, I understand they will struggle when they see my dark side, especially when I have been their patience stone.  There is nothing as terrible as your patience stone in anguish. don’t expect to be patience stones. But I expect them to survive it and still want to be my friends. When you stay away, you affirm the words, I might otherwise have doubted because you said them when you were upset because of my state of mind. So I can’t handle believing I depress you and you really don’t want to talk to me anymore. That all I remember getting from me was a pain letter.

You think it was easy for me to be your friend? I was the one to whom you told about how you were in love for Zoddie even before you told Zoddie. You think it was easy? Or was it easy for me to stay after you brought  the whole jealousy trip? The on-again, off-again love? Because you couldn’t handle the one time I sprightly delayed the reciprocate to your ‘i love you’. I could go on quote examples and examples, but I guess you took me too much for granted to appreciate the effort it took me to be your friend.

Anyway I did learn one thing though. This is what happens when the happier people don’t leave me. I become the cause of their depression. You, Sabah. Now I know. Now I won’t reproach anyone for leaving. I wish you had not left me when I was in that suicidal frame of mine. But whatever. Better me in pain than you.

Pain Letters


You were right, love is fucking stupid. I lost the person I wanted to keep most in life and, after becoming a cause of depression for her.

I am sorry for some of things I have said. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I can’t forgive myself. I am the smallest person in the world. For writing these letters and not being able to delete them. For to whatever extent it is possible, I want them said. Hopefully you will not read them. I don’t expect you to forgive, the words still come out in hope you will understand though. But to be honest, that hope is dying.

Pain Letter


I still think you will want to come back. And by apologising for my behaviour and asking for another chance, I … Well a part of me still wants to open the door for you. Make it easy for you to avoid one thing you can’t do ….. Not to a loser like me. Apologise. But no, I won’t do it this time. I resolved never to contact you or Sabah or Vessey or Heshamul or Koel at begining of this year. Not to contact anyone for whom I could be useful.

Pain Letter


I don’t think I had wanted anything as strongly as keeping you in life. And it was for selfish purposes. I always kmew that sooner or later you will realise what a loser I am. And want to stop loving me. And when you started belittling you-and-me thing at same time when you were developing feelings for your sir, I knew you were struggling because of it, only too coward to break it. Just same as you had earlier struggled with the whole one week long ‘girlfriend’ thing because you were in love for Zoddie. But I thought we would always be friends, I really thought you meant it when you agreed that we are ‘struck togather’. So something beautiful was destroyed when you  said you could go away from me anytime you like. Infact, the loser I am, I still think that we are struck together. That one day you will want to come back (though I don’t know why, you are perfectly happy and definitely happier away from me and you have proved you can leave me anytime, even prefer me out of your life). And that day scares me, for that day, I will hurt at least one of us, if I won’t let my anger out, I would hurt myself (for scooping so low on dignity). And if I do let out my anger I will hurt you – since I know you won’t come back for me except to use me as a means to handle some crisis in your life – some anxiety attack, problem with one of friends (who being physically closer mean more to you) or something like that  and so would be weak … And since I know that, for all strength you developed from your career, you can’t handle my bad moods. I do hope for both ourselves that such a day won’t come.

Not a Pain Letter


Dear sis

I probably made one of my best decisions in life when I called you sis. In Arabian world, there is a concept of patience stone. When life gives people too much trouble, they would take a stone and tell them about your fears, anxieties etc. Because stones can be such patient listeners. There are of course people who are patience stones for others. People who find energy for life and use it to be happy  and make others happy too. They not only let others pour the poison of their life on to them but give happiness in life. I somehow end up becoming a patience stone for all my friends (a bad one, I never have energy of that one) … Well all, except for you 🙂 you were my patient stone in times I really, really needed one. As you are for several other people. And so this is to say ….. What is that word people say when they are grateful? Than ku? Think u? I don’t know, I never use it. But you get the gist right? 

I wanted to say it because I know how sometimes being a patient stone can be a thunkless (?) job. 

You are like the Hindu God Shiva who drank poison to let others have the nectar. You are like that, taking poison of sadness from others and I know, though you won’t let it show, that you barely manage to safe yourself from it … Much like Shiva who had to hold the poison in his neck to protect himself. No amount of gratefulness can pay back for thwt constant effort of holding the poison inside your throat and not let one poisoned word showing your frustration and irritation out.

And I have observed how for all the talks about loving yourself most, you are always turning our conversations around me and my life. And I, being a good, healthy, selfish brother take it for granted that it should be so.

So thank you. (I said it once, I am not saying it again. Don’t get used to it. In fact the world should never know. This never really happened, you can prove it).

And happy birthday, wish you all the happiness in the world. Take care of your and your family. And yours too …. For their sake as well, because there is nothing as terrible as as seeing one’s patient stone break down. So do look after yourself …. May be cut on callories a little 🙂 though otherwise you are still amazing. Not a day older than fifty years old 🙂

Physical pain


I have come across two different women. The first of these women just could not feel physical pain. This is far from being as amazing as it sounds. Theoratically speaking, she could bleed to death before she knows she is bleeding. It seems to me that pain is like our body’s alarm system. It tells us what body part needs attention. The woman in the question doesn’t have that alarm system proper and functioning. Several times she discovered that she got an injury and was bleeding blood only too late. The second woman said she had a disease which causes her spells of very extreme pain for no good reason.

She didn’t tell me much about her disease at first – so i found myself theorizing about her disease which, I later discovered is far from being being right. But I will talk about this falsified theory. I theorised she seemed to have a disease that is very opposite of first women. That with her, alarm system of pain was going on for no good reason. May be I ended up inventing a disease in my mind or may be there already exists such a disease.

My point is my biggest pains are other than physical. Emotional, existional and pschyological (I could also say ‘spiritual’ but the word is too associated with religious ideas for my taste). Are these pains alarm system too? The ‘Inside-out’ movie says we feel sadness so that we know people care for us and get strength from idea (or something to effect). So does my anguish represent some kind of unfulfilled need too? Or is it like with the case of disease I theorized about in case of second woman? My alarm system have just gone crazy?


I feel a bit like Doctor Who; who like a sphinix rising out of his own ashes could regenerate from his own dying body. Everytime i feel everything is destroyed, something remains behind. An optimistic mind will see as a good thing. I am myself tired of this cyclic movement of life. The signs of reemergence of functioning state of mind are as terrifying to me these as signs of emergence of an anxiety attack. “Enough.” I want to tell myself just as doctor too did. Unlike doctor, I never was a warrior or brave like him.


The fact that i am about to kill myself keeps me from thinking long term – in terms of relationships and friendships too. Just as Doctor Who was forced to change his compamions every few years for fear of having to see them die, so it seems to be the case with me because I can’t be letting them too attached with me for fear of hurting them by dying afterward. Good part is most people leave me when they no longer need me. But sometimes I have to ensure they leave.

Paper starvation


Today I know of the greatest frustration of all. My mind explodes with ideas and I am starved of paper to put them on, having run out of pages in my diary. It is not even the first time it has happened. If only it was possible to die of starvation of paper! I live in darkness devoid of electricity during nights…How bad it has to get until I realise that this is the time to end it?

Persitant hearts


My friend must go through a heart surgery. Part of his heart must be burnt for it is too large. The injury is always there. So much I have learned about hearts in recent times – a heart can be broken, burnt, have holes in it and yet go on beating.

Guilt, apologies and forgiveness


Those who say that forgiveness benefits the offended are ignorant. Forgiveness does not lighten the burden of anger and anguish in the person forgiving. That is a mere myth. In fact, it is the other way around, we can truly forgive the offender when the anger, anguish, pain etc is already gone. Otherwise, you can believe and tell the offender that he or she is given but you will continue to suffer from the offence because merely thinking and saying the words of forgiveness does not create a magical effect on your feelings (otherwise we would all be able to forgive). And the misery continues to haunt you, you start holding the very offence that you thought you had forgiven the person. Thus try not to be too quick to utter words of forgiveness, don’t say them till you are not hurting anymore from the offence, or you will find that yourself regretting those very words that you said to absolve someone else of their regret. Let you utter the words of forgiveness only when you are sure of no longer suffering from the offence and sometimes suffering will only end with your life and thus the words of forgiveness should wait for that long too.


There are three sources of guilt – compassion, bad conscience and reproaches. 

Of these, the first is a pathological disease common to all herd animals. One suffers doubly first at the sight of the other person suffering and only then from knowledge of having done them wrong.


The conscience, on the other hand, is a negative virtue that can be defined as values that we produce in order to save ourselves from guilt. It is the suffering caused not so much from the fact of having done someone wrong but from having done something below oneself. The bad conscience it seems to me is narcissism taking a hit, where one self-esteem falls because of awareness of having done an act that is not true to one’s high self-image.

Conscience is a bad superficial parameter – sometimes it makes you suffer though no one was hurt by your actions. Sometimes it would stay clean even though you might have hurt millions.


Perhaps the most common and definitely the worst source of guilt is reproaches and accusations. This is guilt induced not so much by what is inside one but rather by words of others – their reproaches and accusations. Perhaps a hurt person has the reason to reproach or accuses the offender but often such words can induce guilt even when no one was hurt – they are often used to create peer or social pressure to conform to norms etc. Prometheus was made to feel guilty by gods because of an act of goodness.


Whatever the source of guilt, it is still suffering and meaningless suffering at that for, no matter how much guilt you feel, your feeling it won’t by itself make the person you might have hurt any better. 


Apologies do not take away or reduce the hurt caused. And they are not tendered so much because one is feeling guilty and not accepted so much because one is no longer hurting.

Apologies, in my opinion, are just requests – the attempts by the offender to renew the acquaintance or friendship. The apologiser makes them because he or she still wants the friendship/acquaintance and the offendee will accept them only if he/she wants the same. 

I have seen people not apologising even though feeling guilty because they think they can get away with keeping friendship/acquaintance either way. 

And I have seen them not making apologies even though feeling guilty because they didn’t want the friendship anymore. 

And I have seen people apologising even though they were not feeling guilty, nah they were the ones hurt because they wanted the friendship so much more than the other party. 

It is always the weaker one in a relationship who apologises and, if the apologiser is often (though not always) also the one that had caused hurt, it is because guilt often adds substantially to the weakness,


The apologies do not kill the suffering of the offended, though when they are accepted they take away the suffering of the offender. In fact, it does so far make the offender feel redeemed that he or she starts taking offence whenever the offended so much admits of feeling the same old pain (caused by offender) again. By having forgiven, the offended even loses even right to feel the pain from the hurt caused.


And yet, I have seen that the apologies tendered as admissions of guilt for all kind of sufferings caused. There is though one cause of suffering that is apologized for far less than others. Perhaps because it takes the form of a sort of reciprocity, a passive vengeance or it might be because it comes from someone already suffering but mostly because it has that disgusting sense of righteousness – it is the suffering offender feels in form of guilt. 


This suffering from guilt might be caused by actively by making reproaches or accusations but passively too by not forgiving. There are though lots of good reasons to not say words of forgiveness as we have seen above. And often reproaches, as different from accusations are nothing but statements that offender has broken offendee’s trust. The accusation, on the other hand, is just statements made for the pure purpose of creating guilt. A person might reproach and forgive you in the same statement but an accusing person will only want to punish you if not some other way than by withholding forgiveness. Still, one feels disgusted by the uptightness and judgement of unforgiving as the offending action of the offender.

Schrödinger’s cat


How long do you want to live the existence of this Schrödinger’s cat – both alive and dead at same time?

Pain Letters


To Nobody

I need a face, an understanding, compassionate face of someone who won’t get disgusted, tormented, scared or bored by my perpetual whining and, if my experience till now is anything to go by, I am never gonna find such a person, in fact, I no longer have energy or wish to look for it. When I said I ‘need’ the face, I mean I need it now stronger than ever since the world has become a disappointment and I got this bitterness inside me which I must rid of and I can only do so when I have found such a face. Everyone whom I have been tried for the purpose has failed, and the fear of silent abandonment keeps me from looking for another one again. Since no such face could be found I will just have to create an imaginary friend of sorts through these letters. And so my pain letters addressed to you are going to be a method through which its addressee must be created and, also, the process by which the ‘pain’ that initiated them must be healed. It is ironical I seem to be attempting to start on cowardly ways of one of the characters of my novels (a novel that had a poor literary quality).

Whether or not anyone see them such, but these notes are just as much an effort to deter suicide as much as they are a preparation for them and the pain letters addressed to you, Ms. Nobody (I just gave you a gender, till now you were neutral, I think a psychologist will have much to say about this. But let us stick to baby steps only, let me not give you more permanent features or I fear you will end up reminding me too much of people whom I am trying to chase away from my consciousness. Yet, I already see you as kind and compassionate, having an eager excitement of a born blind who just got eyes and is waiting eagerly for the first time she could open her eyes to the world of colours. You will be my Galatea and I am forced to create you because I already have Pygmalion’s misanthropy.

I hope you will wait for me to come back for you and talk to you more. Till then I hope you won’t mind waiting like, as yet, the unfinished statue of Galatea.

Copyright – Sidharth Vardhan

Spread the evil

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