May 1997

One more step and I'll be safe.

One leap of nihilism. Nothing can hurt me in the void. Damn the Karma, straight ahead. I was aware that I wasn't in my right mind, but I couldn't stop staring at the street below. My hind brain had stepped aside. I really could throw myself off the roof of my best friend's building.

I don't feel like that anymore, but I remember how it felt. Power over my fate. Endorphins paving the way to oblivion. I had thought myself too egotistical to commit suicide. Then I felt as if it was the ultimate expression of ego.

The sky was stingy with clouds. It was a variable May day, with a schizophrenic sun. My senses were different. Colors spoke more clearly to me. The wind was like sandpaper. I felt the rotation of the earth, the pull of the translucent moon. I knew I didn't have long.

My mother tried repeatedly to kill herself. She was crying for help, which was there long enough to rescue, if not save her. I had broken down a bathroom door. Father had cleaned up a kitchen of blood. She had scars on her wrists. Not me. No one was gonna catch me. Top the last generation.

Mid-virtual-fall I realize it won't work. It's not me, it's us. I'm making matters worse. All the people I've disappointed need me, want me around. Safety is over-rated.

When Mom got sick, she fought for life. She was courageous and inspiring. I was paying attention.

I've been to the well once, and I cannot forget the way. I swerved to avoid the cliff, but I've a mountain of hairpin turns ahead.