I was in a comment area last night and was surprised at reading not a few comments about this LIBTARD and PROG doing us a favor by killing himself. And one repeater ROBIN WILLIAMS IS IN HELL ROBIN WILLIAMS IS IN HELL. Those comments have been taken down overnight, but you can see the sentiment expressed well here on a Christian Creationism website, Robin Williams is in Hell.
If you would like to meet up with that person or such people, try Christian Mingle.
That Republican inhumanity aside, one issue many actual humans commented upon was how depression and suicide know no bounds of class or wealth.
Way back in high school I was required to read a poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson. Not only is it the only poem I recall from so long ago – though I do remember something that went boombalay boombalay boombalay boom – but I cannot think of any piece of literature that gave me more insight and understanding of the world around me. It’s not what you have it’s how you feel.
RIchard Cory
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
‘Good-morning,’ and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich – yes, richer than a king –
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.