Winter Foul, Spring Chicken

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One winter many years ago, I put a noose around my neck and stepped off a chair.
My weight snapped the thin rope almost immediately, but not before the pipe that it was tied to pulled out of the ceiling and sprung a leak. Somehow I had cut my wrist. When a bead of blood came out of the scratch, I put a Band-Aid on it– with antiseptic. Boy! Did that sting!

I held an unloaded gun to my head for nearly half an hour. My arm got tired.
I learned something during this near-suicidal period.
I don’t have what it takes to knock myself off. This is a good thing.

Spring gets here, and my mood slowly changes. I don’t have to act happy or fake my good mood. It just comes back to me.
So, here I am again, and I’m thinking, get the rope out.
But, I know from experience– I can’t do it.
I’m chicken, and I can’t afford the plumbing bill.
Spring is coming. Spring is near. Carry on.

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