Today I flirted with death. I had enough with life. I was tired of the frustrations. The dejections. The anger. Tired of the horribleness of life....so today, I flirted with death.

I took my pistol out of the attic that I had bought a few weeks ago. And for the first time in my life, I stuck live bullets in the barrel. One. Two. Three. Three live bullets just for me. Whee!

I walked outside behind my shed. I crept low, so as not to attract the neighbors attention. I had hidden my gun underneath some clothes. It was unnecessary. The pistol would have just as easily fit in my pocket. I don't know. I guess people do silly things when they go towards their death.

So I went behind my shed and while I toyed with the gun, my fingers slipped and I locked a bullet in the chamber. I turned this switch and that knob. But I just couldn't unloosen the locked bullet. Now I was in a dillema. I lived in a residential neighborhood where a person couldn't just fire a gun. And yet, I was not going to walk back into the house with a chamber-locked gun. What to do? What to do?

As I sat wondering what to do, I felt frantic. I wondered if a neighbor would show up and smile and ask how I was doing. Worse, I didn't want them to see me with my gun. I didn't mind them seeing my dead bloody body. But I didn't want them to see me with a gun. And for the first time in my life I fired a shot from a pistol. It rang loudly. There was an echo. I became self-conscious. I hid the gun in my pocket and returned back to my house pretending like nothing happened. One of my family members had noticed the shot. I shrugged at them and said, "Not sure what that was." They seemed unsure. But let it go. Good.

I debated whether to go forward and kill myself. I thought of my family. I thought of friends. I thought of the world that I no longer cared to impress. That's why I didn't even bother penning the eloquent suicide note that I had put so much mental energy into conducting. I figured that if I didn't care enough about the world to kill myself. Why do I care who gets impressed with my suicide note?

I kissed my son. I walked aout of the house, I went back behind my shed. I locked and loaded a bullet. My mind spun with intense debate. I decided to silence my mind. In a frenzy I put the pistol in my mouth and I pulled wanting to feel the shattering sensation on my throat. Instead, I'm not sure what I pulled but I unlocked the chambered bullet. That shook me. I figured that maybe my time had not come.

I walked inside the house. I took the two bullets out of the gun. I put the fired shell in my pocket. Then I sat down at my computer to write this note.