No, this guy I'm about to post about did not have conversations with us about suicide, although, as in any high school, we were all taught about suicide being a permanent solution to a temporary problem. This teacher, for whatever reason, seemed obsessed with death.
He was my Latin teacher for either two or three years, can't recall now. Anyhow, our Latin translation books told about a guy, Cacileus, and his family, who lived in a village in Italy, and their lives. We had to read aloud what was going on in Latin, and then translate it into English.
There was a point near the end of the book where the town that Cacilieus and his family lived in, was befallen by some tradegy. I don't recall whether it was an earthquake, a fire, or what. Anyhow, the teacher goes on and on about every character in the book dying, and then says things like "You all are only in high school, but we're all going to experience it. Your grandparents, your parents, and then you. Death. Never ending night. Life is essentially one long day with a limit. Death, night, is never ending". I'm sitting there thinking to myself: "I'm only a teenager, you jerkoff. I'm terrified of death, and I've never contemplated suicide, my parents are only in their early to mid 40s, and three of my grandparents are alive, well, and in their
70s. Why the fuck would I be obsessed about death?"
I've always had a fear of death, both for myself, and for any of my loved ones. My mom was 57, when her mother died, and my father was two months short of his 65th bday, when his mother died.
I've had friends who are younger than me, who haven't been afraid of death. For some reason, I always have. Something my mom said to me after my maternal grandmother died has stuck with me. She said: "When your parents pass away, you start to think about your own mortality".
Again, all stupid shit from my younger years, racing back to me because of my mom's situation. I haven't thought about that Latin teacher in years, even though I thought I liked the guy at the time.
Mitch
He was my Latin teacher for either two or three years, can't recall now. Anyhow, our Latin translation books told about a guy, Cacileus, and his family, who lived in a village in Italy, and their lives. We had to read aloud what was going on in Latin, and then translate it into English.
There was a point near the end of the book where the town that Cacilieus and his family lived in, was befallen by some tradegy. I don't recall whether it was an earthquake, a fire, or what. Anyhow, the teacher goes on and on about every character in the book dying, and then says things like "You all are only in high school, but we're all going to experience it. Your grandparents, your parents, and then you. Death. Never ending night. Life is essentially one long day with a limit. Death, night, is never ending". I'm sitting there thinking to myself: "I'm only a teenager, you jerkoff. I'm terrified of death, and I've never contemplated suicide, my parents are only in their early to mid 40s, and three of my grandparents are alive, well, and in their
70s. Why the fuck would I be obsessed about death?"
I've always had a fear of death, both for myself, and for any of my loved ones. My mom was 57, when her mother died, and my father was two months short of his 65th bday, when his mother died.
I've had friends who are younger than me, who haven't been afraid of death. For some reason, I always have. Something my mom said to me after my maternal grandmother died has stuck with me. She said: "When your parents pass away, you start to think about your own mortality".
Again, all stupid shit from my younger years, racing back to me because of my mom's situation. I haven't thought about that Latin teacher in years, even though I thought I liked the guy at the time.
Mitch
