“But I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life…”



It was a gentle, black-steel kiss.

The ‘O’ shape of the barrel made it so.

It reminded me of the times my father would press his lips at the exact same place on the side of my head when I was a child of five or six.


I wish I could take your fever away.

I’d take it myself, if I could.”



I shut my eyes.

Let one of the very few fond childhood memories I had wash over me.

Then pulled the trigger.



* click *



I sighed, relishing the potential for an easy exit.

From everything.



Some people like pain.

It grounds them.

Centers them.

Frees them.



As for myself…

I liked courting Death.

The prospect of peace.

The silence from all the bleak knowledge I possess.



I lifted my eyelids slowly.

Almost unwillingly.

And stared at the bullet sitting atop my television – seven feet across from me.

I left it there for years.



I don’t have it anymore.

Thank you.





20 Responses to ““But I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life…””

  1. This is deep. And dark. Even for you. Going to need to let this one permeate the grey matter for a while.

  2. As much as you thank us, whoever we may be, I must also thank you.

    I’m happy that things are looking up and that the only trigger you’re pulling these days is the 80 Proof Colt 45.


  3. One day we all return to the nothingness, I’m glad that by mistake or design you’ve not returned early, you morbid bastard.

  4. You should write a novel.

    • Stingray,


      What makes you say that?

      • I can’t put it in words as I would like to express it, but in short, you have a gift. Your ability to take your readers on a journey is excellent.

        Yep, I can’t think of a better way to express it than that. You pull your readers in to your world and then you do with them there what you will.

        You should do it in a novel. Just my humble opinion.

  5. Maybe you should compile your blog into a short book? Just a thought.

    • Jordan,

      Great thought/suggestion.

      Serious question:

      Would you read it?

      Regardless, thanks for the idea.

      • Lots of people would read it. Beginning, one hopes, in your lifetime 🙂

        And well it may. The old joke about Lou Reed et. al. not having many listeners for their 1st album, but every one of them started a band? Thanks to the Internet, you may find that you already have quite a few listeners with bands.

        In our age, we speak to audiences of audiences, calling in the air.

        Which may be why so many thirst for that which springs from solid ground.

        In an existence whose most solid and grounded aspect is also the most ephemeral.

        Personal note: There are those who, over time, took that bullet from you. And others who would take it for you.

        That knowledge is also ephemeral – tied to the most ephemeral thing in existence, by links of the most adamantine solidity.

        The darkness will speak to you of these things again, and it will not speak kindly. On that day, remember from whence these ephemera came. And come. And will come.

      • Thanks for your words, Joe.

        I promise you I’ll be considering them for some time to come.

  6. You just had to come back out into the desert.

  7. So you did miss us you bastard.

    And hopefully the thought I said above did not sting you.

  8. The tricky part is avoiding those who, if you were drowning, they would not lend a hand.

  9. Eduardo the Magnificent Says:

    When I first read this (until I got to the end, anyway) I thought it was a woman kissing you on the forehead, and you rejecting either her betrayal or the meaninglessness of her gesture. Sometimes grappling with suicide really is easier than swallowing a certain color pill.

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