Alexi Muniak at Cafe Gitane
Another day with Benoit and his boyfriend in NYC. Benoit read the Abercrombie and Fitch essay from his book American Voyeur at the Powerhouse Arena in Dumbo. It was very funny. The guy who owns Abercrombie sounds like a total nutter. After the event we all ate dinner at the Lesbian owned restaurant Superfine near where I shot Dorian Gray. I ate a pork chop and lentil soup. It was delicious.
I thought I was leaving NYC today but I made a mistake so I’m actually leaving tomorrow.
It was hard not to spend the day remembering Donny-my dead friend. My friend who killed himself. I spoke to other men who knew him and it was difficult not to say, “I told you so.” Because I’d known all along that Donny would succeed one day. Like Heath, DJ AM, Brad Renfrew and my other Hollywood chums who seemed hell bent on an early grave.
People who want to kill themselves become very determined once they set their mind on it.
Issie must have tried 5 times before she drank the weed killer.
I’ve always been a little bit scared of people who express an interest in suicide. If they have so little regard for their own lives they might very well have little regard for yours, after all, they’re going to kill someone whether it’s themselves or you.
When I was in hospital during my mid twenties-after seeing all my friends die of AIDS-I had a mental breakdown and ended up in The Henderson Hospital in Sutton Surrey. There was a sweet girl there called Sarah who wanted to kill herself and she was, like Donny, determined to do it. Anyway, we were having a group meeting and I was sent up to her room by one of the nurses to get her and when I found her with slashed wrists, blood pumping everywhere. She said, “I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just cleaning my room.” She was dabbing at the great pools of blood with some tissue paper.
Had lunch with Alexi and his wife. Bumped into Christian Coulson in Soho who was an actor and is now a photographer. Had hair cut-not very well-at Freeman’s. Alexi and I drank more coffee in Cafe Gitane in Nolita then, after a nap, met Benoit and crew in Dumbo at 7. It was a full day overshadowed by the events of the preceding day.
When I was nine years old I went down the basement stairs and saw my sonuvabitch step-father standing on a chair in front of a noose. To this day I am amazed at the composure with which I did an about face, climbed back up the stairs and never uttered a word to anyone about what I saw. Of course the bastard never followed through. Maybe I should be more sympathetic towards suicidal people. As a child I considered it the ultimate manipulation tool. I guess I still do.
Wanting the pain to stop,and losing the understanding that there may be ways to stop it besides dying. That’s what makes suicide sad to me. I mean, it really is SO easy to die if that is what you intend. Drive to the top of a parking structure and walk off the edge. Step on that third rail. The sad thing is all the ineffective ways people try, perhaps because their intent isn’t purely focused on dying. Sometimes those really are cries for help, for someone to save them. And when addictions cloud a person’s will and change the biochemistry of ability to see things as they are… I can only try to feel for them, and try to understand, and help when I am allowed to. I hope your pain is kept in check by what you are learning.
Dear Duncan,
Something you wrote caught my attention and it is absolutely true. The line about suicidal people killing someone. I was once in a car with a gay male friend of mine. He has been suicidal ever since his one love cheated on him and left him for another. We were driving along listening to some music, when he suddenly took a big huff of something out of a can and passed out cold while driving… with me in the passenger seat. Luckily, I grabbed hold of the wheel and steered us off the road. It is wise advice indeed to be very careful around someone who is suicidal….they might just take you down with them.
Sorry to hear about your friend. The little dog seems to be holding up alright…
Kids! I’ve learned to never rush anything, even Death. Live in the moment is such a simple concept but so very hard for most of us to grasp.
If “Brad Renfrew” was such a chum of yours, why didn’t you spell his name correctly? It’s Renfro.
Just don’t get in the way of suicidal people. Their love of other people is overpowered by their hatred of themselves. They wouldn’t change to a purely homicidal attitude. Sometimes the anxiety is so great on these people, due to circumstances or chemical imbalances in their brains, they do not think properly, but by no means think that that means they are purposely out to harm other people in the process, because most times, they just want the pain to stop.