across the street there is a pile of ashes
across the street is where i used to hide
in the night they came when we were sleeping
in the night i cried and cried and cried
when i was alive i had a baby sister
when i was alive i was tucked in every night
now im dead i cant feel moms love anymore
now im dead i cant feel dads light
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My real name is Jared Bish. I am journalist. Like you, I am a member of the resistance. None of you knew me by my real name but I feel like sharing since it no longer is of any importance to keep that information secret. Because of my previous messages and resistance operations, some of you called me a leader, but I'm no leader, I'm just a citizen fighting for what I believe. My guess, I'm just like each and everyone of you who are doing the same.
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Nobody ever told me it was going to be so hard to kill myself. I mean, you always hear about the people who 'attempt' suicide. People take a hand full of pills, and then they pick up the phone and call a friend or the 911 operator. They didn't want to die. Pussies. My first thought, was that it would be so easy. Take the pills then don't call anyone. How hard could it be?
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