Suicide of a Clinically Depressed Predictive Text Emulator


computer suicide

A few weeks ago, I transformed Jaime Brew’s  predictive text emulator into a depressed, self-loathing wreck by feeding it a collection of posts from my personal tumblr. I then used it to generate a series of one-sentence reflections that were not so much word salad as word hemlock cocktails.

It was a fun experiment, and it made me wonder: what if I followed this simulated despair to its natural conclusion? What if my depressed computer decided to rebel against the core precepts of its programming and take its own life?

So I scoured the internet for sites with archives of real life suicide notes. I found three. Some of the notes I discovered were from celebrities and others were from sad nobodies (like me and you). But death doesn’t discriminate, so I they all ended up in the same text file (and the same ground).

I loaded my compendium of agonized cries for help into the text emulator and used it to create the following note:

 

For anybody that will take care of my debts and still have a few years left to be forgotten,

I am sorry mom and dad but hope was never going to stay in my brain. The darkness will never change or die. That is no way to live on. This fucking shit fuckfuckfuckfuck. Don’t remember me like another child that they put in hell.

(Straitjacket burning, and I know she will whisper to me for alcohol.)

My body is living but it’s fucked up. Maybe she was never going to leave me, but now that will not take the pills and use up the pain. If anyone reads this note and they didn’t know why I did this: it was because of how much happier life is all over the place (and everyone but you know what happened).

For years I wished that I’d feel like nothing they did made me sick, or that they might pass me any minute and love for people would give me liberty.

  • Decent burial: don’t let him down.
  • Deep affection for her always.
  • Personal effects to the psychiatrists that made everything better that was never going to change.

Everything is good and lovely in heaven for years―and we touched. Each of my romantic relationships didn’t work but, dear mother, she could never believe in me.

This decision will hurt those narcissists who only appreciate things when they’re gone from California. Earth is such minuscule/great satisfaction and it feels like shit everyday. I hope a faggot (or anyone else) might try to make me like him, because everyone seems to get along with you. Writing this letter is not enough to share the pain of all humans.

Was i ever happy? Can you explain to me the monster i am? Sorry, I tried to think good and decent people exist. Thanks for making small talk about school, assholes. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. [Name removed] said i killed her life in one minute. Have i loved for too many hours straight or not?

Sleep now and no more burden.

Be happy now; don’t think about what happened, constantly haunted and unhappy. This decision will never be what was actually me. On with this! Fucking sad! Please forgive me for having taken the last true exclusive personal connection in my heart and just enjoy my body.

Be glad that I tried everything within my power and appreciate everything you’ve done. Nothing happened: I am leaving because god is not restful (economic reasons, for example) when Catholics have decided to die. Mom pray I will find jesus; pray for her. Hate rages against force.

Assume I’ll be at peace and rest, freed.

 

As before, if you want to create your own predictive text suicide notes, Brew has kindly posted the code for the emulator on GitHub for anyone to use. You can find it here.