Diane Arbus

Photographer and Writer; Death by suicide
Born: March 14, 1923
Died: July 26, 1971

DIANE.
There was a point where I
um
where I started to think that maybe all this waiting for so little having
wasn’t really worth it.
And you see once you start to think about that,
you can’t really stop.
So I fashioned a noose.
Probably not a very good one but
um
I suppose
it would do the trick.
Get the job done.
I’d made plans
very precise plans
because that is what you do with this sort of a thing, you plan,
because you want to go in a way that’s fast.
Easy.
Or if not fast and easy than just not too painful.

I’d waited until it was about 11:30 in the morning because no one’s out at 11:30 in the morning on a Tuesday and I walked out to the woods about a mile away from home
and
in my bag was the noose
and I suppose I looked like I was probably quite possibly up to no good with my bag walking into the woods on the middle of a week-day afternoon but if anyone was going to ask I’d had a plan to say
I’d planned to say that I was going to take photographs.
I was going to try and capture the light.
But
no one asked because
I suppose
no one noticed.
And I’d found a tree with a very sturdy looking branch
very sturdy that I knew it could hold my weight and I’d put the chair down and opened my bag that had the noose and my letter
which I placed under the leg of the chair so it wouldn’t blow away and I climbed onto it and I’d gotten the loose end of the rope up and over the branch and yanked a few times
to make sure it was
secure
and when I went to place the noose over my head that’s when I saw Him.
Death.
I don’t know if you know this
but Death is very, very tall.
It’s a little crazy to think but He is
SO
TALL.
Like some kind of giant.
And He
I don’t know how long He’d been there watching
but He looked me right in the eye and
He looked so apathetic
INDIFFERENT
and when He yawned before walking away because even Death was bored with me
when He yawned I crumpled up
right there
on a purple folding chair in the middle of the woods with a noose dangling above my fucking head
I crumpled up right there and cried for an hour
two
three.

It was dark when I went home.
And I’d thought
I’d
maybe
heard Someone sigh.
Not heavy. But light.
And it started to rain. Pour.
And I didn’t run
or take cover I just walked
and I took my time
and I eventually made my way home to my cozy armchair with my fat cat and I sat in the windowsill and I watched for Death outside my windows.
I was still there the morning after.
And the day after that.
And the month after that.
And the year after that
until finally fast and easy didn’t really matter anymore
because I got so tired of looking out my window for Him and decided to leave the door open.
And then…

Then, I saw Him wink.

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