Let's make jokes about suicide. But first, let's talk about why.

One day I thought about the pain in the world. More than that I felt that pain. The pain of a mother watching as bombs fell on her home while she was out at the store. The pain of a village starving, their young girls being taken and savagely raped. The pain of them hiding pregnancy to avoid being murdered. The pain of a boy who's parents are murdered right in front of him. The pain having every thing taken from you and ripped from your hands. The pain of watching as an atomic bomb as it decimates the city next to you, the one you lived in, while you were on your way back. To have every person you know wiped from existence. The pain of being tortured strictly for the amusement of another. Or during the holocaust, where the soldiers seem so heartless, "how can humans be this way?" I would think. How can they heard us like cattle and be so detached. How are they so calm as they take my child and fill their lungs with gas. The absolute panic in those eyes, the nails clawing so hard at the walls that they are ripped from the cuticles... formal occasion garment in white color

And as I went through their thoughts as if they were my own, I felt that pain, and so tears would run down my cheeks and it just wouldn't stop. And I remember on days like this, that even as you read this, there is strong chance there is a boy with a deadened look in his eye, being raped by men much stronger than he, and he is powerless. He used to cry, but he shut those off long ago to save himself from that misery. And maybe the story isn't accurate to that time, but it is near assured that it occurred, and that a crime just as tragic is occurring now, that some of us humans live in constant fear.

Do they get your attention? Every day, every second? When is the last time you cared about that? When is the last time you made some sort of effort to stop it? No, because you are ignorant, and because you are selfish. Because you only care when it's something you know, someone you know. Because you only care about someone if you know them, and only if it is in the time frame of that event. It only matters if it is relevant to you. Your precious band member somehow deserves all this attention, that his life is more worthy of attention just because he yelled his thoughts louder than those others that have suffered and you heard it. You remain ignorant until then. Or you haven't, and have done barely anything.

What I have learned from this are as follows. That you need to understand the suffering of others, and feel that suffering, in order to gain perspective on your own life, because our happiness is relative, like all things. And also, if you do it all the time, that then you will be among those sufferers that are mourned.

If I am cold, or make jokes of the atrocities in the world, understand that I cannot afford to make their suffering my suffering, and that laughter is one side of a coin, the other being a soul shattering anxiety. And if I were to be angry for instance at your attention to a single soul, I only see the every day ignorance of every other event that goes on during your life.

I am no hero, I am consciously ignorant to the desperation of the world unless I intend to do something about it. I don't. I take care of myself, I take care of my daughter, and I take care of as many as I can without compromising my own happiness, because thats what I expect others to do. Take care of themselves, so others don't have to, so they are not mourned, and to extend as many small gestures as they can to make society a bit more kind despite our illogical broken minds that keep learning things that we did not intend to learn. And I'm starting with honesty. I know my demons. I know that I am selfish, so I adjust as much as I can. I take pride when I do well for others, to condition myself to be better.
I think others should too. Because those emotions don't line up the way they should. You didn't have much choice in that, it's just a reaction.
I don't know exactly what my point is. Maybe just to be understood. Maybe to guide others in hopes it helps. Maybe because people assume I am an ass for having no response for a suicide that everyone seems to care about, when I can't give the time and dishonor every other suffering human. I can't do it all. I am but a small part of this world. I can only carry so much weight, but I will carry a bit more than myself. So I won't likely care for those outside of me, maybe I'll make a joke about horror. It's the first thing I go to because the other end only shatters me, then I'm taking from others, it's a cycle to me. I'd rather have a laugh. Make others laugh. I want to grow the good. Otherwise it's just a sad society. IDK if I make the right decisions, but it's how I deal with it. I learned that from a traumatic early age. But, we will all go at the end, so just get through now, do the best you can. Don't take the whole world on your shoulders, only take what you can carry.