Title

Threatening suicide

All taboos broken, or

A wonderful day to die.

There are a few topics that are not spoken about. Death is coming to us all but it is taboo. The act of sexual intercourse, where we all came from, is also taboo. If the beginning and the end are both taboo, what can we expect from the in between, the time of living? Death and sex are the two pillars that hold up our life. From all the books about death, the Tibetan Book of the Dead is for me the best guide into the after life. It gives direction to the best possible way for the entity’s spirit or ghost in catholic language to reach Enlightenment on the moment of death, or in the Here After. A wonderful colorful world awaits one to drag one back in carnal form. The way to go free and never return is to follow the Pure White Light. As long as there are wombs and dicks, and new souls can be made, however, it is better to let them wait on the other side than to let them come here to suffer a life time. Necromancy is the science of communicating with the dead. I think it is bad to disturb a spirit as it is no more here. I say: people on this side and spirits on the other. The unholy ghost spirit that has left the body is supposed to adhere to the Holy Ghost so that the Wisdom of the Universe shows him his past life. He can than judge him self and choose to return in human form in order to overcome the bad he has done. Only the spirits of people who had studied and applied the laws of the Universe who in a sense were enlightened and in some way holy  can stay with the bright white Light and not return in carnal form. To bring less suffering, we the people, must make sure the spirits stay there.  By using condoms, vasectomizing and using the anti baby pill, or the spiral or the 6 month shot. Preventing more souls to coming in the flesh will benefit the ecology of the world more than any other thing.

There is a problem for many dying people because local priests have no guide for the departing soul, and science can not help, science is studying it.. The right to end life has been a hot topic in the Netherlands and Switzerland long ago. In these two countries there is a way for ordinary people who suffer a personal condition to die with dignity. It is called euthanasia in the learned world. Several conditions have to be met and more than one doctor must give their reports to a commission who then can give permission to the person who wants to end life with dignity. Often family members are present to say goodbye, a doctor to oversee the process and that is that. There are many cases that are not approved by the commission. People who want to die but are prohibited by law must continue to suffer. I am in that group. I want to die very much. I am not suffering enough they say, a pill can take care of my suffering. What many do not know is that more USA soldiers die from suicide than on the battle field. I should have died when I was 50. Unfortunately I live.on beyond the years I lived for true. I am now a living dead.

When I look back in my life I succeeded wonderfully. I did everything that other men dream of. I traveled very far and very much, I saw many different people and made friends the world over, I had lovers and I became a global citizen. I had the most wonderful cars, I learned to fly small airplanes, I learned to sail ocean going sailing yachts, and I rode horses. I sailed 15 good years that made me fall deeply in love with the immense open ocean. I came to the Caribbean 25 years ago and I love it here, I settled in Marigot, St. Martin in 1989. I learned new trades and became tourist guide, also sales representative, and then gold smith. In my life I had two sons and several sweet long lasting relations with lovely women. Now I want to die a little more. I am done with this life.

After I was hit in 1999 by the terrible car that broke my legs I am still limping like a crab. I asked my doctor to help me die but he refused. Instead he gave me pills. I get around the house in my wheelchair. A special shoe has been made for me; I call it my robot shoe. That helps a little but I need a walking stick or I lose my balance. The horrible feeling that god’s perfect creation, my body, has been violated by a zombie sort of person who hit me with his car makes me cry tears of frustration every day. I want to die a little much this time. I researched all possible ways to end my life and I have found the simplest way. Painless, effective and cheap, involving nothing illegal at all. That makes me feel a lot better, now that I know how I can leave this valley of tears, when my time comes. God has given me life, I offer Him now to please take it back. I am done with living. Been there done that. All my life I was curious about dying, to be without my body. I practiced astral traveling and indeed went everywhere, but connected with a silver cord to my sleeping body at home. Free to go into the sun and be gone. I hate the driver who took my good legs away, for not taking my life also. He was not even punished for what he did, but I am punished for the rest of my living days. His insurance had to pay my hospital costs, so the judge was sure he was guilty. Because I have given away every cent in my life to people poorer than me, I am suddenly without money and that makes me want to die a little more again. Please do not compare me with others whose condition is worse, that does not make my condition any better, so now I want to die for them; a little more again. To kill some body is called murder. Even the threat of murdering some one can land one in jail. Gandhi in his time was not the peaceful leader without violence that you may think. He seriously threatened to kill somebody, fasting himself to death, a murder of the self in this case, if he did not get what he wanted. I am convinced I can not die when my time has not come. I hope it comes soon. I want action. Death can not be as bad as living like I do now, and it can not be so bad at all, because nobody ever came back, except in fairy tales. Today was a wonderful day to die, it just did not happen, tomorrow maybe. Until then I stay here with you.

Chamba Chada 

The reports I follow on the radio international news touches me most when the survivors suffer the missing-partner -syndrome. They cannot imagine how death works spirituality. That the body is not functioning any more they can grasp, but that the persons light and life are gone, baffles them. The more as nothing about the way how to die has been taught in schools, church, temples etc. My curiosity has lead me to the most satisfying: "Book 0f the Dead", from Tibet. The ancient unperturbed monks in the monasteries high on the slopes of the Himalaya have preserved the teachings of the Enlightened Ones and composed a guide for the spirit of the dying person. The symptoms of the arriving death are well described as in normal cases death takes about the time it takes to use a meal. This manual for the spirit of the dead person is to be read out loud by a friend even as minutes and hours and days go by. Time exists only on our side of the clock, and after 7 weeks it is said that the spirit must have found its way and the guiding prayers cease.

This reading while one is alive, for a dead friend or relative, or for only one self, while living, gives the reader the wisdom to help others that happen to die in the

field of influence of the present. It makes life so much richer, this knowledge of how to die. That, if it comes, at least I have an inkling as to where to steer my spirit, if it is true that it cannot die and live forever. The information, once stored in the brain, after reading a modern translation, will be of use in case an instant death takes place. Life becomes so fearless and easy, bad habits are laid off , morality strengthens, integrity sublime, here follows the name of the book: The Tibetan Book of the Dead. Oxford University Press. ISBN 0-19-500223-7.

This version is a bit old-fashioned and I recommend you find a newer edition. I have seen one that explains the message clear and good. Life becomes more marvelous and full when you have understood that you have been here forever and will stay, no matter how many death we pass. We grow towards fulfillment of the Lord and appreciate His mysteries the more we do scientific research to celebrate His ways.

No flags fly halfmast, no mourning at island level. Oh no. That’s for when the far away Queen dies, or her first minister maybe, or some soldiers that died fifty years ago, far away. But when about 30 persons die right here, close by, on the doorstep so to say, not a word. 'Sorry' says the island boss, 'It can not be helped.'

However, the tightening of the immigration laws not only here, but in every wealthy country, is the reason for more poor people trying to get out of poverty.

Respect is what people crave, respect and dignity, for death comes to all , it should not be wiped under the carpet as if it is not important. One day of mourning should be observed, or at least one minute silence for every person that died in the battle to try to survive. The war here is not with guns and bombs, but with hourly wages and visa. Respect for the poor who make the walls of the houses that the rich live in. Those workers that make this world so full of goods, luxuries and commodities themselves live in shacks, with unpaved roads and no sewage. Also here on prosperous Sint Maarten. Go see Cay Hill ghetto, Middle region and Dutch Quarter ghettos, no roads, no sewage. There live the people that seek education, relief of centuries of suppression of the rich and powerful. It is them that died on their search for a better life. Remember them, when you hear of brotherly love from the pulpit, remember them.

Knowledge about dying is hard to obtain. Nobody escapes that one certainty, and still it is never discussed. It is not studied or talked about and the art of dying is at a very low point in our society. I myself do foresee my death. And I do not want no wailing and snottering at my departure. Feast and be merry when I am set free. Address me as if I where still there. Nobody knows in what Wisdom and Light I will have gone. So I start saving for the party after my death. Every coin I get through the neck of an empty ketchup bottle adds to the party money. When the bottle is full of coins I bury it. It holds approximately  $50.- When long after my death someone finds the bottle full of coins he will have a little party. When I have buried enough for a big party I make a map. With a cross at the spot and a dotted line to the nearest tree. With numbers of steps to be taken in various directions of true north. To maintain the Caribbean dream of buried treasure, I recommend all future party mongers to bury more treasure, deeper, When so much treasure is buried by me as to make people want to kill me for it I have reached. Then I will reveal it all to a good friend shortly before I go. I will hand him the chart with the secret of the buried treasure and he may do with it as he likes. If I die as planned the party may be delayed by my friend or consumed ad hoc. If I do not die, I keep adding to the hoard. If my body is to be disposed of I would prefer to be thrown in the deep, clear  waters of the sea. My organs may be reused if desired, the rest cut in small pieces for the seagulls, burnt, or eaten by worms, that does not bother me, but a party with happy people, cake, sweetmeat, drink and music, that must be. I hoard my  treasure now for the people that live longer. Cheers.