READ THIS BEFORE YOU JUMP

When I kill myself, I’m going to do it right.

That’s the kind of thinking that leads you to the edge of a cliff on your birthday.

And if you’re reading this, it seems you’re at the cliff too. I don’t know if it’s your birthday, but congratulations if it is. Did you have any cake yet? Don't jump before you have any cake, there’s a great cafe about a mile down the road due west that’s open late just for people like us. Enquire about the Aokigahara gâteau, it’s to not-die for.

And if you are still intent on killing yourself (seriously, try the cake it’s actually really good) then I suggest you find somewhere else to do it. This spot is MINE. I have been scouting this place out for 10 YEARS my friend, be better than the last guy and show some respect for the dead and find your own place.

I do, however, commend your tastes. I know exactly why you want to do it here; the talus at the bottom is so aesthetic, perfect for a suicide of an artistic nature (I’m an artist).

If you don’t believe me I just turned 27.

In any case, I find myself caught up in another great case of cosmic irony. On the eve of my long-planned suicide what do I find but another man’s body lying on my stage! Disgusting, inconceivable. Not that I’ve ever had the experience of being cheated on by a significant other (I never had one, not because I couldn’t, but because I was not interested in having one, I’m an artist) but this must be what it’s like to come home one day after another 9-5 of the same dead-end job you’ve been working for years to find your wife in bed with a man you think you might’ve seen once working the checkout at your local supermarket.

The selfish bastard 100-odd feet below me is a rank amateur. There’s nothing to infer from how his blood has splattered, nothing about his attire that makes you think beyond what you see, he’s just killed himself. It’s such a five-out-of-ten suicide, it makes me sick.

He’s getting in the way of real art here! In case the coroners can’t read subtext, here’s what I will have done by the time you read this letter. You know that song by Yoasobi ‘Into the night’ about that guy that tries to stop that girl from not existing, but didn’t? Well I’ve always loved that song, it really spoke to me.

See there’s something about suicide as an aesthetic form of death that I’ve always found appealing, whoever wrote that song understands that too. Don’t make life of death, make art. That’s why I’m going to jump off the cliff while listening to that song on loop. That’s meaningful, a man inspired by an artistic depiction of suicide to make romantic his own death. It’s all a circle really, maybe if it weren’t for the sheer amount of plebians killing themselves for no actual reason, I wouldn’t have to do this. If you’re going to kill yourself, make something of it!

The body below poses a bit of a problem. I’ll give him this, he might’ve known a little bit about the golden ratio, because his placement is spot on, right where I would’ve been aiming for. No matter, I am nothing if not a man who takes things in stride. I shall incorporate this into my performance. He landed with his head pointing towards the ocean, like an arrow pointing to the horizon. I shall aim for the gap to his left, landing with my body parallel to the sunset (I’m doing this at night so that it looks nicer). A death without meaning on the one hand and one overflowing with purpose on the other.

That’s art, baby.

In any case, I would appreciate it if you would take this letter and the SD card from the camera set-up at the cliff edge, and post them to that thing that used to be Twitter. Don’t forget to tag me (@KaiSekvensen) in the post, otherwise, there’s no point. (Make sure you point out the reference to Stan earlier in the letter, some people might not get it).

Mom, I’m not sure if saying I hated or loved you would make this all seem more poignant, so I’ll leave it up to you to decide, you always knew better than me which was the case.

And to the hack copycat that found this letter: if you’re really intent on killing yourself here (really rude of you by the way), I’ll try and leave some space to my left.