Sunday, February 23rd, 2003, 2:14 P.M.
An unknown location in Florida, U.S.A.
“Hi! You've reached the Suicide Hotline. Thank you for calling – how may I assist you today?”
“You can try to assist me if you want, but I just want to talk.”
“Do you have any thoughts of harming yourself?”
“No – none of that. Never.”
“Then why are you –”
“Shut up and listen to me. Please, that's all I ask. Nobody's done that for me in a very long time.”
“I'm sorry, sir. But please, don't be hostile. That won't help.”
“I'm not looking for help, miss. I'm just looking for somebody to talk with. Please, don't take that away from me.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Well hey – not so fast, you know? Let's build it up. I'd kind of like to get to know you first before I start spilling my life out. It'd make it easier for me.”
“Well, I guess I'm here to help you, sir.”
“What's your name?”
“Julia. And yours?”
“Robert Robertson, but most people just call me Bird. Julia, huh? That's a pretty name. I made a list of names a few years back just in case I ever had a daughter. Julia's somewhere near the top, I think.”
“Did you have a son instead?”
“No. I'm thirty-one and I've never had sex. Never kissed. Never even held a fucking girl's hand for Christ's sake.”
“I'm sorry Robert, you seem like a really nice guy and I'm sure that there are plenty of girls out there for you.”
“Call me Bird, please.”
“Okay.”
“How old are you, Julia?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Married?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Well, my boyfriend and I sort of broke up recently. I loved him, and we had talked about getting married, and I believed him; but then I found him cheating. I guess some things just aren't meant to be.”
“I'm sorry to hear that, Julia. I can be your boyfriend.”
“Is this a prank?”
“No. Why would it be? You just said yourself that I'm a really nice guy.”
“You do seem like a nice guy, Bird, but I can't just start dating a guy that I've only talked to for a few minutes over the phone. I'm sorry, but I don't even know what you look like.”
“So then you're shallow.”
“What? No, I –”
“You said I'm a nice guy, so why does it matter what I look like? I can be everything you've ever wanted.”
“You sound like a nice guy, but I don't know you, Bird. I'm sorry.”
“Well, you're getting to know me now, right? So think about it, please?”
“I will. But in the mean time, I'm going to transfer you to another assistant who might be more qualified to help you.”
“Please don't hang up, Julia. I've never had somebody care this much for me in my entire life.”
“I'm sure that's not true. You said you're thirty-one, right? How do you get along with your family? Friends?”
“Nonexistent.”
“Your friends you mean?”
“Well – both, yeah. I don't have any family and I don't have any friends.”
“What happened to your family?”
“My dad left my mom when I was young, I guess. Lived with my mom growing up, mostly. She passed away from cancer last December – the day before Christmas, actually. I wish I had a chance to say goodbye.”
“I'm very sorry, Robert.”
“Bird.”
“Oh, right. Well, I'm sorry to hear about your mom, Bird. Have you ever tried to reconnect with your father?”
“When I was in my twenties, yeah. Found out that he was imprisoned in Georgia. Heroin possession. I think my mom might have known and kept it from me.”
“Oh geez, I'm sorry.”
“That's very sweet of you, Julia.”
“Did you ever visit him?”
“Well, I took a small road trip just to see what my father looked like, you know, beyond the few pictures I'd seen growing up. It wasn't far, since we're in Florida and all. I'd say it was about a six hour drive, maybe four or five if I hadn't broken down.”
“What happened?”
“Well, I scheduled a visit with him, and he didn't even know who I was until I told him my name. And when I did, he didn't believe me. He said that he knew he couldn't father such a goddamn hideous creature.”
“That's awful, Bird. I'm very sorry.”
“Yeah, well, from what I heard, a year or two later he got into a heated argument with another inmate. Guy bashed my dad's head in until it looked like spaghetti sauce.”
“That's awful. How did it affect you?”
“To be honest – I don't care. I mean, I just told you the only memory I have of my father, and after that, I hated him. He screwed my mom over and then he screwed me over, too. A sick, twisted part of me wishes that I could have been the one bashing his fucking head in.”
“You sound like you have a lot of pent-up anger, Bird.”
“I do.”
“Well, where does it come from?”
“A lot of places, I guess. Just society in general, mostly. And being like my father.”
“How are you like your father? You said you barely even knew him.”
“I use heroin, that's why. Can you believe that shit? I started using it when my mom died, to cope with the pain, I guess. I want to stop so badly, but it hurts when I stop. This is our secret, Julia – please don't tell anyone.”
“Bird – I cannot guarantee what will happen there. It's not my job to report drug use, I'm just here to help you. But if I feel that you become a danger to either yourself or to other people, I will be required to call the authorities.”
“Don't you fucking dare, Julia. If I end up in prison for the exact same reason as my father – well, then I'll kill myself.”
“Don't talk like that, Bird. I'm sure you're loved by a lot of people, and they want to help you, just as I do. Are you thinking about hurting yourself right this moment?”
“Not this moment, no.”
“How about recently?”
“Never.”
“Bird, I can transfer you to another line, this line is –”
“Please don't leave, Julia.”
“– for people actually contemplating suicide, not for people just wanting to talk. I understand your needs, but there are other lines designed for what you're looking for, and I can put you on hold while I transfer you.”
“But I like you, Julia. I feel comfortable sharing these things with you. I feel like I can trust you more than anybody else right now.”
“Well, thank you, Bird, but I'm sure there are people in your life who feel the same way about you and you're simply not noticing them.”
“Well, my mom, yeah, and maybe my dog – but they're both dead now.”
“I'm sorry, Bird.”
“It's okay.”
“You mentioned earlier that you were angry at society. Why is that?”
“Because we're biological creatures, Julia. We're descendants of animals – shit, we are animals. The only true thing that separates us is our ability to reason.”
“The ability to reason is a pretty big thing though, Bird.”
“You're right. It is. But our ability to reason has led us in a direction where now we are penalized or frowned upon for acting on our biological needs.”
“What do you mean?”
“I'm talking about laws – I'm talking about society. This planet existed for more than four billion years without human beings, and now we've managed to fuck it up in the brief amount of time that we've been here.”
“Are you an environmentalist, Bird?”
“No – but I'm a realist. Our ability to reason has led us to instill laws that infringe upon our natural evolutionary course. Do you understand sexual selection?”
“A little bit, I guess. Explain it to me.”
“Well, briefly, males are biologically wired to produce as many offspring as possible with females so that their genes can be carried on, while females are designed to select one partner because the energy needed to produce offspring for a female is much greater than that of a male. Yet, in this day and age, polygamy is frowned upon. Do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because religion says so.”
“I'm assuming you're not religious, then?”
“No, I'm not. I'm a realist.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
“I mean that there's no 'meaning of life'. Nor has there ever been a 'meaning of life'. Religion came about because the world's fucking depressing – it’s a coping mechanism for people who can't accept that one day they will die and the world will move on. The thing is, people are so afraid of death that they'll believe anything religion tells them just to comfort their fears. There are millions of people out there right now on their knees convinced that they're truly conversing with a man-made God.”
“But there are tons of people who believe in an afterlife, and the concept of God keeps them motivated to go on when things seem bleak.”
“Yeah, well, there’s no afterlife. I think we live one life divided into three parts: From the moment of conception to the moment of birth, from the moment of birth to the moment of death, and from the moment of death until the last living person on Earth utters your name. That's it, Julia. That's it.”
“That's not a happy way of looking at life.”
“You're right. It's not very happy, is it? But then again, I'd rather live a knowledgeable yet depressing life than live in a fake-ass fantasy land where we abide by man-made laws that oppose the way life was lived for billions of years before our existence. Shit, the world was here first, not the other way around.”
“Society is about progression, though. Life prior to social structures was short and brutal. Do you really want that for humanity?”
“I'd rather take my chances living like an animal than being forced to abide by a social structure set up by a bunch of arrogant pricks who think their word is better than the natural law of the world.”
“Why are you so angry, Bird? Are you depressed?”
“No. I know why I'm upset, Julia – it's because I see through the bullshit that everybody else is too afraid to observe. People are concerned about living their cookie-cutter lives; they want to fit in, so they waste the first twenty years of their life in a classroom, then they waste the next twenty years of their life putting their child through the same shit while they work a job they don't even like to buy food that should be a free right of survival; the next twenty years are a reflection of the first forty, and the last twenty years of your life are spent pissing your pants in a nursery home and whining about back pains until you wither away. Do you think that sounds like a fun life, Julia?”
“I can't answer that. You and I just see it in two totally different ways.”
“Well, shit, nobody sees it the way that I do. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who sees the world the way it truly is, and it scares me.”
“Did you finish school?”
“No. I finished middle school because it was 'required' of me. And then I neglected high school and college. I studied a lot of biology in my spare time, though. The thing about society which gets to me though is that there are so many signs pointing to its flaws, and we do nothing different. If society curbed biological urges, then there would be no cases of cheating in relationships, and there would be no need for prisons because everyone would abide by its standards. But facts show us quite the opposite, Julia; the United States has the highest incarceration rate in the world, and cheating happens everywhere. Think of your ex, for God's sake. Sometimes I think cheaters and prisoners are the smartest of us all – they see how society has infringed upon their rights, and they want no part of it.”
“I don't want to talk about my ex.”
“Why not?”
“I just don't.”
“Come on, Julia. I need a better reason than that.”
“Because I was happy with him. I thought I was going to get married to him, Bird, and he turned out to be a lying asshole.”
“How long ago did you guys break up again?”
“A few months ago, I don't know if I mentioned. It was around Thanksgiving time.”
“I'm very sorry, Julia.”
“It's okay. You know, I've been doing this hotline thing for about a month now, and nobody's really asked me about myself. I've got to admit, it's kind of weird.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes people forget that the pizza man or the IRS agent or the suicide hotline assistant on the other end of the phone is a real person, too, with their own imperfections and life stories to share. We're so greedy sometimes – we call somebody or some organization for a purpose, we get what we want, and then we hang up without even questioning the life of the person we just exchanged a part of our own life with. We associate people with their value to society and not as actual human beings. Don't you think that's odd, Julia?”
“I suppose it is – but then again, it's my job to help you, not the other way around.”
“And you're doing your best, Julia. But it'd help me to know more about the person I'm sharing my personal stories with.”
“What do you want to know about me, Robert?”
“I want to know everything about you, Julia – I want to know about your ex-boyfriend, I want to know about your life. I want to know what you did as a child. I want to know your favorite flower, your flaws, what makes you sad, what makes you happy, what makes you get out of bed every morning. I like you a lot, Julia. I really do – would you ever be down to maybe get together sometime? … Julia?”