Description:
My name is Robert, but you may call me any variation of the name. Lately I have come to realize that I really don't give a shit what anyone thinks about me, so I have developed one of those mouths where I say what I think. It is sometimes cringe-worthy too. Even in my own head.
I used to pretend to kill myself when I was your to get the attention of my parents and anyone who would bother looking. I remember my first act, I was about 5 or 6 and at this time I was disillusioned enough to believe that when anyone dies that they are laying down with one foot over the other and their arms outstretched in the way that Jesus is crucified on the cross. So in my mind it would be convincing of me enough to take a red marker and color my wrists, face, legs and various lines on an oversized t-shirt then lay down on the ground. So I waited till my mom came downstairs to do laundry and she started yelling. I was happy at first because I thought she was yelling because she thought I was dead, but then she said "THAT IS YOUR FATHER'S DRESS SHIRT!" It was at that time that I knew The jig is up.
Then there was when I was around the age of 8 and I was fascinated with people who killed themselves. I would think, Would anyone care if I died? Who would come to my funeral? So I would plan on doing it...but not until after the new Power Rangers movie came out, then not until after I saw the Spice Girls in concert. I kept coming up with things to look forward to so that I wouldn't have to kill myself. But then I thankfully had the revalation, "Once you are dead it's not like you will be able to see who comes to your funeral cause...YOU WILL BE DEAD DUMBASS!" It was at this time that I decided to see what someone's reaction would be to me killing my self. So I went to the kitchen grabbed a bottle of catsup and the cheese grater (don't ask, I was 8) and locked my self in the bathroom for 3 hours smeering ketsup on the walls of the bathtub. I then heard my mom calling for me and after yelling for me for a few minutes and looking around the house she unlocked the door and walked in and...she turned and called 911. It was at this point I started laughing out loud and I got the living shit beat out of me. I was then entered into extensive therapy sessions. 
