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100 Books Club

A sad story, 2003-02-04, 6:59 a.m.


This is a sad story. Not only the loss, but the finding of a transcript. Read it before you continue my entry I guess, just because less sense than usual may be made if you don't know what I'm talking about.

But also, this child, feeling the need to prove he was hardcore. That he could do it. That he could fit into the drug using community. That he wasn't an 'other'.

Like Stacey said in my guestbook, being an other is like being a misfitting jigsaw puzzle piece. You try to fit, figuring that you can add to the puzzle, but you don't. Your colours are off or your background. You might be trying, but you don't quite fit. That is exactly how it feels.

I wonder if the boy in that article felt that way. Felt like he didn't fit into life as it was in the outside world and appealed to the internet to get his social match. Then, was he still trying to fit when he took his overdose? Did he think that when he woke up, he'd be a hero to those he was chatting to? That this was some sort of iniatition and that he would pass and be in the group?

So many watched this death and not all tried to help. Were those that were trying to help members of the group or other 'others'? Were they assured enough in themselvse and their role that they could help - that they weren't scared of the consequences within the group if they did save this guys life? Or were they others, knowing that this kid was like them and that it wasn't worth dying to become part of the group.

RIP Ripper. And all of those like him.


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