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The pain becomes unbearable and just when I think I'm screwed, I see that same shotgun laying
there a few yards away from me. I crawl to it and I press the shotgun against bleeding flesh and
bone and I pull the trigger in attempt to finish the job and and find salvation from this pain, but
nothing happens. I can't die. Then again I don't think any of us ever really die.

If the mind is separate from the body, then perhaps even after the body has died and withered away
the mind continues to live on.

Despite the fact that I didn't die the second time around, the pain is gone now. There is no added
damage from the second firing but the damage from the first firing is still there, and I'm bleeding
all over this cold floor. As I run to find a bandage of some sort, pieces of flesh hit the ground. Meat
hits the ground. I find a room with bandages and I wrap my entire face to conceal this entire night,
and then the black silence returns.

Now I'm sitting in a car looking through my windshield and I see two people arguing across the
street. I sit there and think about why I couldn't kill myself, why I couldn't die. I ponder if I'm
actually still alive.

The thing about being a free thinker, or an "enlightened individual" is that in the process of
becoming these things you may either succeed in finding wisdom or the wisdom you seek will
cause you to have a mental breakdown.

I'd like to believe that's the sole reason why parents or society don't approve of those who do not
want to conform because such a path of isolation causes one to be different, and difference is
murder. This isolation causes the individual to think and he or she becomes aware of the world
around them. Truly aware.

This awareness, or this truth, it can become so overwhelming and while certain people will be able
to absorb it, there will be those who cannot, and those people who cannot, they realize that the road
not taken is not taken for a reason. They realize why so many people conform to its society and
abide by its standards.

One of the two figures is completely shadowed in darkness, and the other seems as if it has a white
light casted on it. After a while the dark figure withdraws a gun and points it at the light figure. I
look down at the other seat for my shotgun but it's not there. When I look back up the two figures
are now completely visible, two ordinary men arguing but the argument has escalated to what
could become murder. I get out of my car and walk towards the two men hoping I can make things
okay.

Fear is what keeps many of us from living the lives we want to live, so when fear is no longer an
obstacle, what becomes of a person? His or her true self? The only thing that would have kept me
from walking towards the men is the fear of losing my life, but right now I'm almost sure that none
of us ever really die, so I walk up to the man and stare at him. I try to speak but I can't.

He looks at me and asks me what I want. That him and his pal here are ready to settle this dispute
on their own terms. I continue to stare at him and I try my hardest to mutter any words I can, but I