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2003-10-10 15:14:24 ET
I bring the gun to the flesh of my temple. The circle of cold metalic substance is warmed by skin. I move the gun slowly to the back of my head, holding, held, there. Minutes pass.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Snap. Click. Click. Click.
The make beleive bullets enter my brain scattering pieces of my flesh and bone hit the wall. Blood spaters into nice messy art. I awake. Gun in hand. To the temple.
Chamber. Empty.
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