The Glebe 1913/11 (Vol. 1, No. 2): Diary of a Suicide

A stark, first‑person diary opens with a somber letter to a magazine, explaining that the writer intends his final notes to serve anyone who might later walk a similar path. The pages belong to a young man from New York, whose life in the early 1910s is recorded in raw prose. He describes his day‑to‑day routine, a modest office job, occasional evenings with cheap wine, and a lingering sense of fatigue that shadows his afternoons. The foreword, written after his death, frames the manuscript as a possible aid to those struggling with hopelessness.

Inside the diary, his voice swings between fleeting hope and deep discouragement. He notes a recent salary increase that brings little joy, the numbness of endless work, and a yearning for rest that pushes him to travel to Havana, where a leap‑year day marks a turning point. Reading Ibsen rekindles his ideals, yet physical weakness and persistent nervousness keep him on edge. Listeners are offered an intimate portrait of a mind in crisis, rendered in the fragmented style of a man trying to make sense of his own unraveling.