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Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal  (email)





I feel safer

using an

alias name. 

You can call me

John Doe.


I receive faint

signals from

the Polaris

lights, which tell me



I must go west.

They say I

must sing with the

angels and take

my life.


They call my name.

But I try

to ignore them.

I donít want to

sing and


I donít want to

take my life.

I want the lights

of Polaris

turned off.





Jesus Christ told me

you have to kill me.

He said the worldís sins

have multiplied and

a new savior

needs to give his life.


You and I are the

new saviors of

this world.  I am the

martyr and you are

the crucifier.

Jesus Christ wants this


done.  He said in a

few days darkness will

envelop the world

and swarming bees will

feed on the world as

if it was honey.





I believe in natural healing.

I donít believe in medicine.

You must listen to me.

Iím telling you the truth.


This is my body.  I have

authority over my body.

I donít even take aspirin.

There is poison in medicine.


I am normal.  There is

electricity in my room.

When I taste food I feel the

chemicals on my tongue.


The only way I will get better

is if you take me away

from the window where my

neighbors shoot lasers


and chemical weapons into

my room.  My neighbors

need to be arrested and deported.

I fear they are terrorists.


They are armed with chemical

and biological weapons.

Nobody believes me, which is

why Iím on this hunger strike.





Iím not getting

enough medicine.

I still feel like

Iím going to do

something.  Doctor,

can I have something

to put me out

of my misery?


Iím not saying

I want to die or

anything like

that.  I just might cut

myself.  I wish

I had not bitten

my fingernails

down to the nub.  Iím


sure I would draw

blood with longer

fingernails.  I

would like to be home.

I hate it here

because nobody

cares about me.

People laugh at me.





Born out of a nightmare,

I fear everything.

I will live and die in fear.


The world will be a dangerous place.

I will be darkness,

a worm buried underground.


When I fall in love

I will fear the loss of love.

I will live alone

and allow my heart to rot.


My corpse will reject my heart.

Worms will have nothing

to do with it. In my grave

the nightmare will be over.





Man breathes heavy,

side-splitting pain,

on the sweat in his hair, more sweat.

Tide is about to come in.


Crows mock his existence.

Like a terror movie,

their shadow and song resonates like

a bad omen.


Man looks down in disgust:

footprints in the mud: the crows above like

sentinels, like spies.


A moment of silence,

same old thing again the next day.

Man breathes heavy.





Soldiers gather,

hold back tears,

as the country's flag

is handed over

to the widow.





I do not know how,

but I will find a way.

Iím going to die.

Iím going to kill myself.


I only have two questions,

when can I go home,

or am I going

to live here forever?


Stop asking me what

is going on with me?

Just look, Iím bleeding

so excessively.


Iím going to jump from

the window, or from the

moving car.  Any

day now I will die.





I feel very lonely.

Still, I would rather be

by myself.


I don't want to take the

medications.  I would

rather die.


Most of my life I have

felt depressed.  I'm fed up

with my life.


I could see myself in

Heaven.  I don't want to

talk about it.





I cut myself

with a butcher

knife.  I was not

serious about

dying or else

I would have used

the steak knife.  This

was a cry for

help.  I have felt

sad most of my

life.  I donít know

why.  Iím fed up

with my life.  I

need to seek the

Lord.  Maybe my

mother is right.

I should pray with

her.  The pills have

been working a

little better

of late.  Perhaps

with the prayers

mixed in I might

be getting help

from high above.





Of course I am

feeling depressed.

I want to go

home right now.


Let me out of

here or I will

have a heart

attack.  There are


gypsies in here

trying to kill

me.  They want to

assault me.


They want to cut

my head with knives.

They stole my shoes

and my wallet.


Do you know

gypsies?  You need

to watch out for

them.  They are


poisoning me.

Iím a victim.

Iím in a state

of misery.





I have a driverís

license and a car.

I donít see why the

court wants to take both

away from me.  I

have never been a

bad driver.  I am

careful.  Just because

voices talk to me

does not mean I have

lost my ability

to drive.  If I

cannot drive I will

die.  Please make sure I

keep my car and my

driverís permit.  I

donít want to worry

about it.  I have

enough problems with

the voices laughing

at me.  Could you find

it in your heart to

tell the judge that I

should drive when I want?



I Might Die


I might die.

One never knows his fate.

I will die.

It is inevitable.


My bones are

weak and my heart is sick.

My body

wonít take any surgery.


I might die

before I get too old.

I will die

if the cancer spreads in my


lungs.  I smoke

too much without stopping.

Itís too late

to stop this nasty habit.