It was just a test. Just to see what it was like, or what he was like. With trepidation he inched his way forward. There he was finally. Sitting on the edge of the cliff. Life had been rough lately, or rather it had been rough to live his life of boredom. The doldrums. He wanted to see what he was made of. Sitting there on the edge of the cliff he thought he might be able to make some meaning of life. He was not planning on jumping. Life was lame, but not that lame. He just figured that facing fear, facing death - artificial and forced though it may be - would allow him to face himself. Perhaps jolt him awake. Allow him to see what he was made of. Allow him to see what he wanted out of life. He figured that if there was anything worth living meaningfully for he would discover it only while staring into the abyss. He sat and pondered. Shocked at how difficult it was to think.

Then he slipped.

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Galen about 12 years ago

"Just to see what it was like, or what he was like." Reminds me of the Unbearable Lightness of Being's definition of Vertigo. Interesting book, if you've not read it.

someoneelse (joined about 12 years ago)

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