Golden Gate Bridge.

The question I came across today was the following: If you were to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, would you do it facing the city or facing the ocean? I had an answer to this question straight away, waiting to be thought of consciously. Of course I would not care. I do not care. I would just jump to my death. And then the psychology of human being gave me its answer: "true suicides" don't care which side of the bridge they jump from. If one gets up there and starts considering the benefits of looking at muggy views of the city versus eternal calamity of the Pacific, then it is quite obvious that the suicide attempt is not a hundred percent genuine. Somebody is a fake.

But what about me? Long gone are the days when I was thinking of going to San Francisco especially to contemplate the possibilities offered by the Suicide Bridge of this planet. I no longer think about this. But the decision is forever imprinted on my psyche. I am true to something I refuse to acknowledge.