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Somebody put a gun to my head.

Please stop, I say.

Stop what?

I donít want to die, please stop.

Shut up! Iím sick and tired of hearing you whine. All the time boohoo. Iím tired of your bullshit. You want me to stop pointing the gun at you?


You really want me to stop pointing it at you?


Then shut the fuck up!

Okay, okay.

Now that youíve calmed down enough for me to speak, Iíll tell you my situation. My name is Carl and Iím an alcoholic.

Hi Carl!

Shut the fuck up!

Iím sorry, I donít know where that came from.

Just shut up, okay? Anyways, what Iím trying to say is that Iím an alcoholic. I drink too many brews and Iíve had quite a lot of vodka in my time too, you know. Iíve recently been divorced with my wife, and Iíve been through a living hell. I smoke too many doobies, and my whole reality has gotten fucked up because of it. All of this is, of course, my fault but the reason why Iím about to kill you now--


I said the reason why Iím about to kill you now is Ďcause, you fucked up.

I fucked up?

Yes, you fucked up. And now, the only way to redeem yourself is that you have to die.

Look, canít we talk this over? I donít want to die, I have a family, I have kids for christís sakes.

Oh, now youíve done it! You just had to bring the kidís into the matter, didnít you? I have kids too! Why the fuck do you think your kids are more important then my kids?

I donít know, I donít know, just please stop it.

Youíre a pathetic excuse for a human being! How come you never became a writer? Hmm? Whatever happened to that dear ambition of yours that you held so precious? You fucked up, because youíre still working this dead end job, in your dead end life. You havenít gotten laid since your wife left you and youíve been drinking for no good reason too. There are about a million reasons of why Iím about to blow your head off. You need this.

No I donít.

Yes you do. You need to die. Thatís the only way you will be reborn. You have to die.

So he cocked the trigger. And he pulled.

And thatís how I ended up at North Grants.

I had died and went to heaven.

ďHey there Carl, how are we doing today,Ē said Nurse Pratchett, with a warm smile.

ďGood thank you,Ē I replied, graciously.

ďWow, you seem much better today Carl! You might be able to get out of here soon. Would you like that?Ē

ďI certainly would, Nurse Pratchett.Ē

ďGood, now time for your meds.Ē

The nurse hands me the gun, encased in a shot glass. I take the gun, point it to my temple, and pull the trigger.

And thatís how I got to see my family again.

Insert amusing anecdote here.

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The following comments are for "Bipolar Carl"
by FinnMacCool


some of this gets a little tricky to follow... maybe Carl's speech [as distinct from the narrator's] could have speech marks... just to make it easier... think this might also help create the illusion that Carl and the narrator are separate people... just a thought...

I liked the idea, and I find the idea of taking medication as a form of small suicide/ or murder an interesting one... an idea that bears exploring further, perhaps in a longer piece?

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: August 24, 2007 )

Kevin's Bipolar Carl
This read like a suicide note. Inner dialogue verses 3rd party narration. I liked it. It was creepy and disturbing to me, and because it elicited a strong response in me then that makes it a good write in my book, I do think that Shannon's suggestions for a distinction between the narrator and Carl is a good one, though if the narrator and Carl are one as in bipolar forces speaking..then, it stands as is.

( Posted by: TheRealKarmaTseringLhamo [Member] On: August 24, 2007 )

Well. . .
the thing is Carl has two voices in on head. I guess maybe I didn't make that clear enough.

( Posted by: FinnMacCool [Member] On: August 24, 2007 )

this story basically came out of my own experience because I was being treated for bipolar disorder in a psych ward and to me, the meds were like putting a gun to my head, but I had to take them.

( Posted by: FinnMacCool [Member] On: August 24, 2007 )

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