20:24.

Yesterday, someone killed himself. I seen him around before but never spoken to him so unlike those who were closer to him, I was spared from anguish.

Everyone was talking about it, discussing it, perhaps trying to get a grip on it. "It" - How one could commit suicide. Jump off a building when he was 25, and just starting his career.

But when you are a stage where nothing seems to be worth living for any more, Reason is that which you have already ran away from, and a device that's very far away.

I'm glad he didn't have to listen to all our speculations and guesses.

When someone chooses their own way out like that, it is a natural reaction to ask why, and to discuss and try together to understand it. But while I understand this auto reaction, I'm loathe to particpate.

'cause for me, I think whatever reason he had, whatever it was, he made his choice. And if we weren't there for him when he could still hear and evaluate, then we should be slient now too. As respect.

This is really not meant to criticise anyone. This suicide is not the first that happened near me these recent years. And I hate it.

I hope suicides will not be one of the things so common in my adulthood that I cease to be bothered.

So few things are really relevant but I keep forgetting.