This post is not about suicide. It's about death. If you can't handle it, stop reading now. When I was a child, 9 years old, I died. My skull was crushed with a steel pipe. The medical term is a basilar skull fracture. I had blood and spinal fluid leaking out of my nose, ears, and even my mouth. I was dead. My friends ran to get my dad. Both he and my dog Sandy came to my side. It didn't matter to me, I had no damn idea. I died that day. I didn't feel a thing. It didn't hurt. I didn't feel anything, even the pipe hitting me in the head. I didn't feel a god damn thing. It would have been nice to remain dead that day. But it wasn't to be. I'm alive. Quite frankly it sucks. You see, me being alive today doesn't suck because I want to die. It sucks because I could have died with no pain, no nothing. Do you understand? Each and every day of my life, from that moment on, I've wondered how I'm going to die. How painful will it be? How much terror will I have to endure? I don't know. It haunts me every day of my life. However, I want you all to know one thing. There is life after death. The question I don't know the answer to is how long it lasts. It may last one minute, or one billion minutes. I just don't know. Then again, we all have to take our chances. Everything in your life is up to you. Including when to end it, or live it. It's up to you.