René Crevel’s father committed suicide when René was 14 and was left with his mother, who he disliked (and is caricatured in Difficult Death). Crevel became a writer and joined the surrealist movement when he was 21.  He was expelled from the group because of his homosexuality, and tried to rejoin until 1929, when he was once again allowed into the group.

Crevel was diagnosed with tuberculosis in 1926, and his illness was complicated with Crevel’s abuse of alcohol and drugs.

The theme of suicide permeates Crevel’s writings, from his very first book Detours (1924), and he tried to kill himself on more than one occasion (including hanging), before finally succeeding on 18 June 1935 by turning on the gas in his kitchen stove. His note read, “Please cremate my body.  Loathing.”

"

When I went out to kill myself, I caught
A pack of hoodlums beating up a man.
Running to spare his suffering, I forgot
My name, my number, how my day began,
How soldiers milled around the garden stone
And sang amusing songs; how all that day
Their javelins measured crowds; how I alone
Bargained the proper coins, and slipped away.

Banished from heaven, I found this victim beaten,
Stripped, kneed, and left to cry. Dropping my rope
Aside, I ran, ignored the uniforms:
Then I remembered bread my flesh had eaten,
The kiss that ate my flesh. Flayed without hope,
I held the man for nothing in my arms.

"

— “Saint Judas” by James Wright (via shoutucker)

(Source: nachobelgrande, via thewordlover)

“I hate the way this town clings to me, the dirt and the sunlight, the ground trying to hang onto me, the way the sounds stay in my ears too long, the harsh squeal of the train wheels on the tracks, the factory whistles, school bells, the closing of doors, the wind as it comes and goes and leaves me here.
The 39 Deaths of Adam Strand, p. 290

“I hate the way this town clings to me, the dirt and the sunlight, the ground trying to hang onto me, the way the sounds stay in my ears too long, the harsh squeal of the train wheels on the tracks, the factory whistles, school bells, the closing of doors, the wind as it comes and goes and leaves me here.

The 39 Deaths of Adam Strand, p. 290

George Reeves (5 Jan 1914 - 16 June 1959), better known as Superman, shot himself in the head in the early morning of 16 June 1959, after a long party at his house, with guests still downstairs, three days before his wedding.

While there has been speculation over the death of George Reeves, most of the evidence suggests suicide.

http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/1556/was-em-superman-em-star-george-reeves-a-suicide-or-murder-victim

Adult film star Megan Leigh (March 2, 1964 – June 16, 1990), born Michelle Schei, ran away from home at 14, and was working in a massage parlor by age 16.  At 18 she was a stripper in San Francisco, where she quit working in late 1986 to make films.
In 1990 she began a same-sex relationship, which was denounced by her family. On 16 June 1990, she died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.  Her suicide note mentioned “unresolvable personal problems.”

Adult film star Megan Leigh (March 2, 1964 – June 16, 1990), born Michelle Schei, ran away from home at 14, and was working in a massage parlor by age 16.  At 18 she was a stripper in San Francisco, where she quit working in late 1986 to make films.

In 1990 she began a same-sex relationship, which was denounced by her family. On 16 June 1990, she died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.  Her suicide note mentioned “unresolvable personal problems.”

"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."

— Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis  (via moriarty)

(Source: loitoledo, via spumeux)

"Get scared. It will do you good. Smoke a bit, stare blankly at some ceilings, beat your head against some walls, refuse to see some people, paint and write. Get scared some more. Allow your little mind to do nothing but function. Stay inside, go out - I don’t care what you’ll do; but stay scared as hell. You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself."

— Albert Camus, from Notebooks, 1951-1959 (via perfect)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via perfect)