It is difficult to take yourself seriously
when a vision of your hand holding a gun to your head and watching chunks of
skull and blood fly out onto the door of the room you are sitting in replays
over and over all day long no matter how you try to occupy your time. The humor
of the repetition flops in every so often that this scene is always impossible
for the human choosing the act to ever see. So it is suicide remains in this fantastical
quality of unrealness. That is unless you survive, but even then the failure in
the incomplete act stalks the actor as the goal was not to see the film, but to
finally un-see it.
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