I read a story once of a man who was living in San Francisco. He committed suicide by throwing himself off of the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco Bay.
Later, when the police and medical examiners were gathering up the man's personal belongings at his apartment, they found a handwritten note on his bureau:
"I'm going to walk to the bridge. If one person smiles at me on the way, I will not jump."
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In November of this year, I sat on a bridge in Wisconsin with a gun in my hand. I sat there on the bridge for at least an hour. At least a dozen people walked past me in that time.
Not one of them tried to stop me.
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Here's to the new year. May she be a damned sight better than the old one.
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