He went to the beach of the beautiful Preveza, and after many failed attempt at suicide by drowning in the sea, which went on for ten hours, Kostas Karyotakis took a pencil and a bit of paper and wrote his suicide note, then took his revolver and shot himself through the heart -
"It is time for me to reveal my tragedy. My greatest faults were unbridled curiosity, a diseased imagination, and my attempts to become acquainted with every emotion without being able to feel most of them. However, I despise the base act that is attributed to me. I experienced but the ideation of its atmosphere, the ultimate bitterness. Nor am I the suitable person for that profession. My entire past will show that much. Every reality to me was repulsive.
I felt the rush brought on by danger. And with glad heart I shall accept the coming danger.
P.S. And, to change the tone: I advise those who can swim never to try to commit suicide in the sea. All night and for ten hours I was battered by the waves. I drank much water but, by and again and without me knowing how, my mouth would surface. Perhaps some time, given the opportunity, I shall write down the impressions of a drowning man." - Kostats Karyotakis, July 19th, 1928 - Preveza
* Imaginary Suicides (K.K)
They turn the key in the door, take out
their old, well-hidden letters,
read them quietly, then drag
their feet a final time.
Their life has been a tragedy, they say.
God! people's frightful laughter,
and the tears, the sweat, nostalgia
of the skies, the landscape's solitude.
They stand there by the window, gazing at
the trees, the children, all of nature,
at the marble-workers hammering away,
the sun that wants to set forever.
It's over. Here's the note --
appropriately short, profound, and simple,
full of indifference and forgiveness
for whoever's going to weep and read it.
They look in the mirror, look at the time,
ask if it's madness maybe, a mistake.
"It's over now" they murmur;
deep down, of course, they're going to put it off.