Trip to Hungary

 I decided to spend couple of days in Hungary, in Budapest. During the trip I watched depressive hungarian landscapes through the window of train I was in.

For a long time I was studying phenomenon of suicides in the world, and in Hungary there was highest rate of suicides. First thing I noticed was beautiful middle-european architecture, beautiful old buildings and parks. However there was not many people on the streets. Coming back to motel I searched for local chatrooms on internet. There was one that highly intrigued me. It was called Suicide group, and in there people were announcing and arranging their own suicides. I recalled japanese horror movie 'Suicide club' and that seemed to me illegal stuff to do. I joined and people were announcing time and place of their own suicide. One will happen this evening, I read, in basement of cafe called 'Kerkeresh'.
I went there and witnessed strange event. Group of young men and women gathered around in front of some guy who was hanging from the ceiling. They took pictures of him and then dissapeared. Upstairs in cafe I managed to start conversation with some young hungarian fellow. He was member of suicide club. We sat by the table and ordered coffee.
'Why do you do that?', I asked him.
'In Hungary people commit suicide all the time. So we created internet hangout where people can announce their suicide. With new technologies comes new temptations.'
'Aren't you afraid of the police?'
'They don't care. In fact, handful of them are part of our group.'
'So even policemen commit suicides in Hungary.'
'Everyone commit suicide in Hungary. People from all backgrounds, young and old, sick and healthy. There is something in the air in this country that forces them to do.'
We drank coffee and went outside. As I was walking back to motel, I was thinking of conversation I had with young hungarian boy. Indeed, in this heartless country existed perfect climate for commiting suicides. People weren't enjoying themselves, omnipotent despair ruled here. I remembered movies of Bela Tarr, depressive hungarian music and novels of Agota Kristof.
I was spending time witnessing suicides in various places, hidden amidst the secret people. Most of the time people were hanging themselves, but there was shooting in the head, cutting veins on hands and overdosing on pills.
I was feeling more and more depressed in Budapest. I started to think about cause of my fascination about suicide. Indeed, from my youth I had suicide ideations. Nothing in the world interested me, and I wanted to die as soon as possible.
I spent next few days sitting in motel and watching hungarian tv channels.
After some time I announced my own suicide decision. People were liking my announcement, sending me regards and encouraging me.
It happened in same basement where I witnessed my first public suicide.